


fairytale

by silverkatana



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Angst, M/M, TeukChul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 01:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20268118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverkatana/pseuds/silverkatana
Summary: but not all fairytales have happy endings.// old fic imported to ao3





	1. park jungsoo

**Author's Note:**

> since i use ao3 as my writing platform now, i figured i would import my debut teukchul fic here too, lol. i wrote it a while back, hope it's not too terrible xD

He’s not the type to drink, which is probably why he’s seated at the end of the table, looking over the rest of his members with an exasperated gaze. They’re a mess, and he’s reminded of the reason  _ why  _ he didn’t exactly want to go drinking with them in the first place.

“Hyung!” He sighs as Jongwoon’s head falls onto his shoulder for what seems like the hundredth time that night. Almost like a regular routine, he sits his junior of one year upright, carefully removing the glass of alcohol from in front of him. “Enough for you to drink for tonight,” he scolds lightly.

He looks across the table at the manager with a weary look. He should have gotten the other managers to come along, too – now  _ he  _ has to deal with this whole mess. “I think it’s about time we get them home,” he murmurs quietly to the manager, who nods helplessly in agreement.

Next to the manager is a rather drunken Hyukjae, who apparently gets clingy when drunk; he hugs Donghae’s arm tight and refuses to let go, while the only other member who isn’t completely drunk just sits there in defeat. “Donghae-ah, can you take Hyukjae home?” he calls to the younger, who nods. He still has his senses about him, although his face is already flushed red from the one glass of alcohol that he drank earlier.

His gaze trails to the man seated next to Donghae; a person of undeniable beauty, even with his eyes glassed over and face flushed a rosy pink from the alcohol. His lips cup around the glass as he finishes off yet another glass. “Heechul-ah.” The man glances towards him, and their eyes meet – one clear and sensible, the other misted over. He shifts, feeling an indescribable ache within him blossom.  _ Damn it.  _ He knows full well of his own feelings towards the man, and somehow, he still finds this drunken mess beautiful.  _ Not now.  _ “Stop drinking.”

He’s grateful when Donghae pulls the alcohol out of Heechul’s reach, even though it earns the younger an annoyed hit from his hyung. “Manager-hyung, can you get Donghee and Heechul home? I’ll bring Jongwoon home,” he says, eyeing the man who has now opted to cling to him in a drunken haze.

The manager nods, standing from his seat. Donghae, too, gets up, dragging Hyukjae with him, who is too drunk to care about where he’s going. Donghee complies, following the manager, and Jongwoon is more than happy to go along with him.

Meanwhile, Heechul glares at the manager, who can’t hide a small flinch. “Piss off,” he mutters. The manager glances uncertainly at him, not sure what to do with the irritable member.

“We have to go home, Heechul-ah,” he sighs. “You can’t stay out here.”

“Go away, Jungsoo,” Heechul responds.

He looks at the manager, and he’s pretty sure both of them are sharing a similar gaze of resignation. “I’ll take Heechul and Jongwoon home, you take Donghee home.”

The manager nods with an expression akin to gratitude, escorting the stumbling member to a car waiting outside. Jungsoo watches as Donghae shoves Hyukjae into a hired taxi before getting in after him.

He successfully manages to hail a taxi, deciding on going to drop Jongwoon off first – he lives in the same apartment complex as Heechul, with Jongwoon living just a little further from them, but he figures that he can drop Jongwoon off then walk back to his own apartment.

He doesn’t really put much thought into walking back to his own apartment  _ with Heechul _ , and in retrospect, he probably should have.

The drive is mostly uninterrupted,  _ thank goodness _ , aside from Heechul’s occasional mumbles or Jongwoon’s clinginess. He couldn’t be gladder when the taxi driver halts outside a familiar apartment building; thanking him, he gets Jongwoon out of the taxi first before dragging Heechul along with him.

Luckily for him, Jongwoon isn’t completely and utterly drunk – at least sober enough to take the lift up to the correct level and key in his passcode. He stumbles into his apartment, wavering between his bathroom and his bedroom before finally half-falling into his bathroom and throwing up.

He sighs, waiting for Jongwoon to emerge from the bathroom. He’s seen the members drunk plenty of times before, and if he knows anything, he’s pretty sure Jongwoon will choose the closest comfortable object to pass out on.

“When are we going home?” He stiffens as a pair of arms wrap around his back. He can feel Heechul pressing against again him, his warm breath uncomfortably close to the back of his ear. He tries to prevent a wave of scarlet from rushing across his cheeks as Heechul bends his face closer, to the point that he can smell the alcohol radiating from his breath all-too-clearly.

There’s a loud noise as Jongwoon hits his foot on the door while coming out of the bathroom, resulting in a series of curses that all the members have heard many times before. Sure enough, he glances towards his bedroom but opts for his couch which is decidedly closer to him; flinging his body down onto the relatively comfortable surface, he’s asleep in seconds.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he reaches towards the pair of arms around his waist to untangle them, ready to head home. “Let’s go home, Heechul.” Thankfully, he manages to get the man’s arms away from his waist, although the unpredictable diva curls his fingers around his own with some form of insistence; an action that brings another blush to his cheeks.

He manages to drag Heechul out of the house, closing Jongwoon’s door with a soft  _ click  _ behind them. “Let’s go.”

It only hits him when he’s trying to return home, and Heechul’s breath trickles over his skin again. Here he is, walking slowly at two in the morning on a deserted street, with someone standing up half-straight, stumbling along while leaning against his shoulder.

_ This might take a while. _

He considers it a miracle, but somehow he soon manages to pick out the familiar environment; by now, Heechul is a tiny bit more sober, and has stopped whining about random nonsense, half-walking and half-stumbling; in this atmosphere, it almost allows him to enjoy the silence that the early morning before dawn brings – that is, if not for the fact that Heechul is perpetually pressed against his shoulder in an alcohol-induced daze.

When he finally reaches the doorstep of Heechul’s apartment, he’s so relieved he almost wants to run to his bed and fall asleep and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. He turns to the man next to him, who gazes back at him with an unreadable expression. “We’re at your house, key in your passcode,” he prompts.

There’s a tug, and he looks down, eyes widening a little as he realizes that Heechul’s fingers are still laced with his. “I don’t want to,” Heechul protests, almost a little childishly.

He sighs. “Heechul-ah, if you don’t you won’t have anywhere to go.”

Heechul’s tone drops all of a sudden, almost turning into a part-conspiring, part-teasing whisper. “I want to stay with you.”

He forces himself to think little of it, since the cat-like member is like this sometimes – in the past, he used to receive texts that Heechul had decided to crash in the 11 th floor dorms instead, or sometimes he would come home to see Heechul curled up next to Donghae in his room. It was just a thing that the member tended to do when drunk.

“Fine, let’s go.” He gives up without bothering to fight, pulling Heechul along with him to his own apartment. He keys in his passcode and swings the door open; Heechul’s fingers leave his grasp as the man stumbles into the house.

He heads straight for the shower, cleansing himself of the stench of alcohol that has been hanging off him; he figures that Heechul is trustworthy enough to leave alone, considering that the man had never done anything stupid when drunk compared to the other members.

He enjoys the sensation of the warm water running down his exposed body, his muscles finally relaxing after a busy day. Drinking with the rest of the members was supposed to be the relaxing activity to end the day, but apparently not so much for him, being unceremoniously appointed an escort for the drunken members.

Not to mention Heechul is currently in his house.

He doesn’t bother to wear a shirt, since he’s about to go to sleep anyway; he throws on some shorts and puts his towel around his neck as water drips from the strands of his hair. Heechul has already seen everything, anyway – he chuckles lightly as he remembers the games they used to play back at the dorm, blushing a little as he remembers all of them standing there wearing absolutely nothing, while Heechul only eyed them with a raised eyebrow; he had always been the more secretive one, refusing to reveal his body to others.

He steps out of the shower, heading straight towards his bedroom, freezing at the sight in front of him. Heechul’s long pants are strewn on the floor, leaving him in his boxer shorts and shirt, casually lying across his pure white bed covers as if it was his own house.

“Heechul?”

“What?” the man murmurs, his eyes half closing. “I want to sleep.”

“Why on my bed?”

He glares up, with an almost-offended gaze. “Do you expect me to sleep on the floor?”

He just sighs, already knowing that there’s little use in attempting to convince him. “Okay, fine.” Shaking his head, he grabs an extra pillow off the bed and heads towards the couch.

“Jungsoo-yah.”

He hears his name being called and turns back to see Heechul sitting upright on his bed. The curtains are still drawn, with pale 3am moonlight filtering gently through the glass window. The beams hit Heechul’s silhouette, making him look more ethereal than he already is.

He doesn’t know if it’s the moonlight or the alcohol, but as he meets Heechul’s gaze, the man 9 days his junior’s eyes have a glossy, reflective feel; then he tilts his head slightly, and he smiles lightly.

He feels a familiar urge creep over his senses as he stares at the man of beauty sitting in front of him. He’s never been the type to like men, no – he’s been in numerous relationships before, some short-term and some long-term, but never with a man before. He’d never even  _ considered  _ the possibility before, not until one day when he looked at this man and the only word he could come up with was  _ beautiful _ .

He’s never been the type to like men, never. And yet, as the moon caresses Kim Heechul’s already-pale cheek in its benevolent light, his eyes glassy and lips parted ever-so-slightly, a pinkish bloom across his cheeks in that intoxicating manner of his, Park Jungsoo feels his sense of logic and care crash down around him; he feels Heechul breaking down the four walls that he had so painstakingly built up, he feels the urge swell within his heart, a strong mixture of both love and lust.

He stumbles, almost in a daze, to the man who sits there calmly, silently. Somehow, he feels like he’s the one drunk; he sits across from Heechul, their faces so close that he can smell the hard liquor with every breath that Heechul breathes, his heartbeat so loud in the silence of the room he wonders if Heechul can hear it.

Heechul’s lips part a little further, the redness in his cheeks deepening a little further because of the close proximity. “Jungsoo-yah,” he whispers, a breathy murmur treacherously close to his skin.

“Heechul,” he tries to say, but his voice fails him and the name escapes his lips in some form of a breath and a whine, desperately in need of his attention.

He doesn’t know what drives him to it. Maybe it’s the look in Heechul’s eyes, the foggy gaze that makes it seem like the man is half there and half isn’t that compels him to; maybe it’s the way Heechul’s lips part just a little, almost as if tempting to come and kiss them shut; maybe it’s the way he smells the heavy stench of alcohol with every breath he takes that numbs his senses too; maybe it’s the way Heechul’s breath is so warm and so dangerously close to his neck that it drives him insane. Or maybe it’s all of them.

He leans forward, letting his eyes flutter shut; his fingers cup Heechul’s chin by instinct, pulling the man closer to him, so close that he can practically taste the alcohol already. Their silhouettes tangle together with only the moon as their witness as he leans in, kissing Heechul hard just like he wanted to for a long time now.

Heechul reacts instantly, parting his mouth obediently before pushing his tongue in deep in a battle for dominance as retaliation. He feels a shiver run down his spine as Heechul moves his hand up, entangling his fingers in his dyed hair. He can taste the alcohol strongly as both of them lean into the kiss; keeping his eyes closed, he doesn’t protest, drinking in every moment of it.

His hand finds its way to the back of Heechul’s neck instinctively, keeping him close as both of them part, gasping for air. His gaze meets with Heechul’s, his cheeks flushed. He can’t prevent the gasp that leaves his mouth as Heechul bends, nipping at his neck with a force that he’s sure will leave red marks in the morning.

He’s powerless, his mind turned to jelly and limbs refusing to work – aside from the hand that keeps a firm grip on Heechul – as Heechul smirks devilishly at him, letting one hand run down his exposed upper body, a cat-like tongue swiping at the corner of his lips.

He moves his head so that he can capture Heechul’s lips in a kiss again, the man accepting it willingly, his nails digging into Jungsoo’s back, leaving the skin littered with small half-moon marks. They’re a mess of limbs, captured in their moment of – what was it, really? – love, or lust, or who knows; their lips pressed tightly to one another, tongues in a never-ending dance.

And then, they stop.

Heechul opens his eyes, freezing.

So, he opens his eyes too, only to meet with Heechul’s – wide and confused and uncertain. The glassy look is gone, and so is the fiery red that used to coat his cheeks.

“Stop,” Heechul whispers. “Jungsoo, stop.”

He feels himself being pushed back, and can only watch as Heechul scrambles backwards too. And he can do nothing but stay rooted in that position, his gaze trembling and breathing unsteady. He’s unable to prevent the wave of guilt that crashes over him, his thoughts a mess in his head.

What had he done? Heechul had clearly been drunk, and he had allowed his personal feelings to take over.

_ Why? _

The tension is stifling; it feels like an invisible hand, wrapping its ghostly fingers around his throat and choking him. “I’m sorry,” he forces out; and then the only thing he can do is flee from his room, closing the door behind him, feeling Heechul’s gaze burning into his back.

_ I screwed up. _


	2. kim heechul

He watches with dark, unreadable eyes as the slender frame runs from the room, only turning his gaze away when the door shuts.

Tipping his head, he brings his fingers up to his lips. His head had cleared slightly, enough for him to realize what was going on by the time they were halfway through their second kiss – which had resulted in him shoving Jungsoo in the opposite direction.

He bites the corner of his own lip thoughtfully, thinking back on Jungsoo’s expression as he fled. It had been dark, but with that faint bit of moonlight reflected in the leader’s eyes, he could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of fear and anxiety and guilt mixed in those wide eyes of his.

_ Why did I tell him to stop? _

The confusion floats around his mind in an empty daze; he narrows his eyes, thinking about what had just happened. Everything was kind of hazy in his still alcohol-induced mind, but he distinctly remembers Jungsoo pulling him in for a kiss; he distinctly remembers feeling Jungsoo’s hand on his neck; with a wince, he distinctly remembers how quickly his own body had reacted, wasting little time in kissing back and running his hands all over Jungsoo.

To say he wasn’t at fault in this situation would be a lie; he had been just as eager as Jungsoo.

_ Why?  _ He wonders to himself, collapsing down onto the bed.

He strips himself of his shirt as well, deciding that it smelled too much of alcohol and that he’d rather sleep without having that putrid stench wafting around him. He wraps Jungsoo’s blankets around him and buries his head into the pillow.

_ It smells like Jungsoo _ , he notes to himself sleepily, breathing in the comfortingly familiar smell of his leader and friend.

That’s how he falls asleep in the early hours of the morning, covered in blankets, head resting on a pillow, body curled up on a bed that isn’t his, with the pale moonlight casting its gentle rays on the foot of the bed.

He awakens to the sensation of the sun’s warmth on the lower half of his body; his eyes open, looking around at a room that is decidedly  _ not  _ his. He’s too tired and somewhat hungover to care, letting his head drop back down into the soft pillow.

He inhales; a familiar smell engulfs his senses.

_ Oh. _

All of a sudden, he’s wide awake, reminded of everything that had happened just a few hours before.  _ Oh. _

He slips out of bed, realizing he’s in no more than his underwear, his shirt and pants tossed carelessly onto the floor. Hiding a blush of embarrassment, he throws both of them on, flinching at the lingering smell of alcohol.

He knows he’ll have to go and face the leader eventually anyways; bracing himself, he swings the door open and heads down the stairs, padding down with almost cat-like quietness, and realizes that the couch is vacated.

There’s the sound of metal and glass from the kitchen, where he figures the leader must be having his breakfast.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t react when Jungsoo spooks a little at his soft greeting; the leader looks up at him from his morning coffee, still shirtless, clearly not expecting him to come down so early.

“Morning,” Jungsoo greets cautiously, and it stings a little, because they’ve never been this awkward before, aside from their three-month silence after the Incheon fight. “It’s only seven, you woke up early.”

He hesitates, contemplating on what to say. It’s a first for him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Jungsoo tilts his head. “Hangover?”

“Partly hungover, partly because of what happened between us,” he says flatly, realizing that trying to avoid the topic forever wouldn’t really work out well.

The atmosphere chills all of a sudden; Jungsoo stops idly stirring his coffee, Heechul stops partway through a breath. Both of them stare at each other, barely moving.

Jungsoo breaks the silence. “Nothing happened last night,” he says curtly. “You were drunk, so I let you stay over until you felt better. That’s all, okay?” Jungsoo’s gaze is so intense, he wants to pull away but can’t even if he tried. “There’s nothing between us.”

Those few sentences jab deep at his heart, piercing mockingly at strands of emotion that he never knew he had. With those few words, Jungsoo had made it clear where he stood.

Not love. It was never love. Just a mistake that happened when they were alone, their minds clouded with lust and in his case, alcohol. It hits him, hard, that  _ this  _ is all they were – a mistake that was never meant to happen.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can choke out. “I’ll get going now.”

He leaves the place in a hurry, his footsteps only slowing once the door of the apartment closes behind him. He doesn’t bother to look back, taking the elevator down to his own apartment and keying in the passcode with more force than necessary.

Slamming the door behind him, he grabs whatever clothes he finds first from his wardrobe before entering the bathroom; he strips himself free of his clothes and switches the water on, shivering slightly as the cold liquid runs down his bare body.

He allows his body to lean against the wall weakly as the water flows down his body, his mind rushing with thoughts. Perhaps he should stop mulling on this; perhaps Jungsoo had been right, no matter how cutting those words felt. Perhaps it was just the alcohol that made him foolish and light-headed, and maybe it was the numerous schedules and tiring life that made Jungsoo break too, a way of relieving his stress.

Maybe the affection and passion that both of them had shared had just been a fragment of his imagination; maybe there had been absolutely nothing between them. Maybe he had lived in reality with his mind fogged with alcohol, but had awoken sober from his own hallucinations.

_ There was nothing between us. _

As he repeats the phrase over and over in his head, he can feel himself slowly falling to his own – truth? Lie? He could feel his body relaxing as he forcefully chased the thought out of his mind; he’s gotten himself over many things before, and this was just another one of them.

_ What if…  _ He quashes the thought firmly, clamping down on any contemplations regarding the topic.  _ No. _

He steps out of the shower a good thirty minutes later, hair wet and wearing fresh clothes. He makes his way to his gaming desk, finding his phone exactly where he left it before going out to drink the night before; one glance at it and he dismisses his messages as nothing of significance – mostly the members yelling at each other on the Super Junior group chat.

He collapses into the comfort of his own bed. His messy blankets, his soft pillow that smelled like him and no one else. In a way, as much as he loves his group, he’s kind of glad that promotions are over, and his schedule is free aside from his usual variety show recordings.

Is he being a coward for not wanting to come face-to-face with Jungsoo again?

He lies there, encapsulated in the silence of his own room, his custom-made red curtains blocking off majority of the sunlight. He lies there and thinks, the first time in a good while that he’s been so immersed in his own thoughts.

_ Why did I kiss back, anyway? _

He dismisses it quickly – a little too quickly, perhaps – as the alcohol wrecking his thoughts back then, before a tiny, cryptic laugh escapes his lips. How ironic and funny it would be if the rumours that the company had tried so hard to shut down turned out true; what an uproar it would cause if he and Jungsoo had taken it any further.

His lips curve into a small satisfied smirk. It’s best this way, both of them staying far out of each other’s business. So that there’s no chance of them taking it any further – so that both of them will sink into the belief that there really was absolutely nothing between them as time turned the chapters of their days.

He laughs to himself. Him, with the image of an unparalleled flirt, liking guys? Never.

He sits up at last, his thoughts clearer now, and heads to his kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, banishing a nagging thought to the depths of his subconscious.

A rather annoying thought about how he somehow preferred kissing Jungsoo to kissing his ex-girlfriends.

_ No matter, it was the alcohol,  _ he chants repeatedly in his head as he pours the water into a glass.  _ I don’t like men, not that way. _

By some time in the afternoon, after going through a near-kiss scene with a male guest on Knowing Brothers, he’s pretty sure that he has zero interest in men.

_ Good. _

“Heechul-ah!” Janghoon calls. “Want to go clubbing tonight?”

He snickers derisively. “Why would  _ you  _ go?”

“Hey, I’m single,” he defends himself, “Besides, it’s a rare opportunity to get Kyunghoon out of his house.”

He raises an eyebrow, but is too tired to protest. “Fine.”

He doesn’t know if he’s going to spend time with them, or to prove the fact that whatever happened earlier that day meant absolutely nothing to him.

He knows he’s going to regret this as he takes another sip of the wine; two nights of drinking too much alcohol. He finishes the glass and puts it down, heading away from the counter. He doesn’t do much when he’s drunk, but the last time he was drunk it didn’t end well.

A woman in heels dances up to him with a daring smirk on her face; out of the corner of his eye, he sees other men glaring at him enviously.

Jungsoo flashes through his mind.

_ Get out. _

Absorbed in his own mental fight, he doesn’t really care when she moves even closer to him. Trying to get Jungsoo out of his mind, he responds by snaking an arm around her waist, seeing her eyes light up in smugness and joy.

They lean in closer, and he’s pretty sure they can smell the alcohol lingering on each other’s breath; and that’s when Jungsoo flashes through his mind  _ again _ , and he doesn’t know why, but for some reason it causes him to push her away.

She moves away from him, a look of confusion and annoyance in her deep gaze. “I – I’m sorry,” he says with a shake of his head before turning to the others who were watching nearby. “Hyung, I’m going home first. I’m tired.”

He doesn’t give them much of a chance to do anything except for shout a confused, “Bye” as he turns and speeds out of the place as soon as possible, his mind ringing with a thousand different possibilities.

Disturbingly enough, majority of those possibilities involved him and a certain other guy.

He’s scared.

He doesn’t know what of; it’s almost a foreign feeling to him. What is this unknown that he fears so greatly?

Himself? Jungsoo? The public? The media?

He doesn’t know.

But he guesses the thing that he’s scared of the most is the possibility that that 3am getaway was more than just  _ nothing _ .

Or perhaps the thought that if it really was more than  _ nothing _ , if it ever happened again, he may be too weak to push Jungsoo away.

_ No. _

_ Please, no. _

He grabs his phone, reading through his schedules. No award shows, no group schedules, nothing out of the ordinary.

Good.

He wouldn’t have to meet Jungsoo again – not for a while, at least.

He can just stay in the solitude of his own apartment, where he can bury the thoughts deep within. Or maybe he should go out more. Having time to think was a gamble for him; it would either end up with him drowning his thoughts, or his thoughts drowning him.

Alone in the darkness of his own apartment, he turns to his only source of distraction; letting everything else fade off, he allows his mind to be pulled away from reality, with only the sound of furious typing and mouse clicks filling the air as he turns to his late-night gaming.

By the time he switches off his computer and collapses on his bed, it’s past three in the morning. His eyes dull a little, and at this point he’s too tired to bother thinking anymore. “I’ll do fine like this,” he whispers to himself.

He’ll be fine. He’ll stay in places he knows, he’ll mix around with people he knows. Maybe he’ll go back to the reclusive person he once was, staying at home with his pets and playing games all day long; forgetting things in the small little ways that he knows.

“I’ll forget, just like everything else,” he murmurs, almost comfortingly, to himself in the dark of the room. “After a bit, it won’t have any meaning. After a bit, everything will be back to normal.”

_ Everything will be back to normal. _

He can only hope.


	3. choi siwon

He stares blankly up at the ceiling, his mind peacefully empty. Rolling over to check the time on his phone, he sighs as he realizes it’s 10pm. A time where he has nothing to do, and yet is too early to call it a night.

He barely realizes what he’s doing, acting almost purely on instinct; he only realizes what he’s done when a familiar ringtone cuts across the otherwise-silent room. “Ah,” he murmurs to himself, looking at the contact who he had on speed dial.

“Hello?” a familiar voice said, the words slurring a little bit in a not-so-perfect pronunciation.

He hesitates. “Hyung, are you drunk?”

“What do you want, Siwon?” The person blatantly ignores his question, firing back with a question of his own.

“I don’t know. I have nothing to do,” he responds. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing.”

He bites his lip. He doesn’t know what pushes at him, but there’s  _ something,  _ some odd instinct that he hasn’t felt for a while, rising in him. “Come over, hyung. I’ve missed you.”

“… Okay.”

Of course, he had met with his hyung on several occasions, but they hadn’t been in alone each other’s presence for over two years; all the meetings since his military discharge had been with the rest of the members.

He doesn’t know if it’s selfish of him, calling his hyung over like this. Perhaps it is.

The doorbell rings a lot quicker than he expects –  _ was hyung in the area?  _ – and he goes to his front door to open it immediately.

Heechul stares back at him, the slightest reddish tint across his cheeks, his gaze unfocused. “Hyung, you’re drunk,” he states flatly, raising an eyebrow at his hyung’s current appearance.

“Shut up.”

“You’re not usually the type to get drunk,” he presses in curiosity, closing the door behind his hyung as he entered the house. “Why now? Did something happen?”

“I haven’t gotten drunk since a month ago, you just happened to ask me to come over when I was,” Heechul snaps at him, his words a little more slurred. “Why today?”

He shrugs half-heartedly. “Who did you drink with a month ago? And today?”

“I drank with the members last month, I drank with Taeyeon today,” Heechul responds in a similar tone, his gaze telling him to drop the topic.

“Nothing happened when you were drunk?” He can’t stop himself from questioning, and he can’t prevent his eyes from roaming over Heechul’s clothes.

Heechul’s unfocused gaze turns into a hard stare. “Nothing happened,” he says coldly. “You, of all people, should know.” He moves closer to him, so close he can smell the alcohol lingering on his breath. “We’re not like that anymore, Siwon-ah, so you have no right to ask me.” His eyes narrow as he moves back, surveying his dongsaeng. “What was the real reason you called me?”

“I missed you.” The three words fall from his lips lamely, and he stands there frozen, running his eyes over Heechul’s facial features in an attempt to gauge his expression; as usual, he fails – he can never truly guess what the man is thinking. No one can.

“Oh.” That’s the only comment Heechul makes, shrugging disinterestedly before beginning to take a step towards the living room.

“Wait.” He doesn’t know what emotions swell in him, but he reaches forward and grabs Heechul’s wrist with a surprising intensity, causing the hyung to turn around and regard him with a raised eyebrow and curious gaze.

“Is that your only response?” he chokes out, not sure where the words are coming from. “I missed you, hyung.”

Heechul pries his fingers off his wrist with a tired smile. “Siwon-ah, it’s been six years. There’s no point in going back now…” He shrugs again. “You’re the one who ended it anyway.”

He flinches back, because in that moment he has an inkling of what are the emotions and thoughts swirling around his head; he’s vividly reminded of them six years ago, their quiet little whispers and their shared laughter, Heechul’s fingers entwining with his, the way their lips touched lightly between breaks when no one else was watching.

He flinches back, because in that moment he realizes what he’s feeling is dangerously similar to what he felt back then. “I miss you,” he whispers, and the desperation is evident in his voice.

“It’s been too long, Siwon.” Heechul’s voice is surprisingly steady, and for a moment Siwon wonders if he’s the drunk one here.

He dares to take a step forward again, closer to Heechul. Heechul doesn’t move forward, but he doesn’t move back either; just standing there, watching with that unreadable expression as always. “You weren’t like this in August. It’s been less than four months. What changed?”

Heechul turns his head, refusing to meet his eyes. “Nothing changed.”

“Then why now?” he queries, and he doesn’t realize the intensity of his emotions, his  _ desperation  _ until he feels tears start to prickle in the corners of his eyes.

Heechul notices too, his eyes widening slightly; then he drops his head. “Nothing happened. Nothing changed.” This time, he moves closer, so his breath is hot against Siwon’s cheek.

He swallows thickly; it still affects him a lot more than he thought it would. After six years, at least; but apparently, after these six years, Kim Heechul still had the same electrifying effect on him.

“Close your eyes.” Heechul’s whisper drifts over him and he listens obediently, letting his eyes close gently. Heechul plants a soft kiss on the side of his neck and he allows the tear to slide down his cheek.

“Why are you crying?”

“I told you I missed you,” he breathes back.

He can feel Heechul’s lips, pressed against his neck, curve into a tiny smile. He wonders if Heechul has ever shared this intimacy with somebody else in the last six years, and the thought causes him to reach out and curl his arm around Heechul’s waist.

“It’s been a while,” Heechul murmurs to him, moving from his neck to his lips. “We did well keeping this a secret from the others, huh?”

They break apart for air, and he finally opens his eyes to see Heechul glancing at him. “One person knows,” he says. “He caught us before.”

Heechul’s eyes widen in surprise. “Who?”

“Hyukjae,” he responds, “He saw us backstage, but he hasn’t told anybody, and I doubt he will.”

“Good,” Heechul whispers, leaning in to plant tiny kisses on the side of his neck again, but he wonders if he saw a momentary flash of worry in Heechul’s eyes.

_ Or am I just imagining things? _

“Hyung, are you in a relationship right now?” he blurts out.

“I haven’t been in a serious relationship since eight years ago,” he says, “Just flings.”

He tilts his head, away from Heechul’s kisses. “Were we just a fling then?” he questions, not sure if he’s going too far from the boundaries. He knows that he should be careful; especially when it comes to Heechul, the most unpredictable person he knows.

Heechul frowns, moving back from his neck. “We were somewhere in between,” he says vaguely, with a sigh. “You know full well of what we did. We never went out on dates or did things couples do. We were there for each other when it got hard… But it was more than a fling. You’re aware of that.”

“Is there someone else on your mind now, then?” he asks again, and this time the spark of annoyance in Heechul’s eyes is clear.

“Would I be doing this if there was?” he hisses, and this time he’s more vicious and rough, his lips crashing onto Siwon’s with unexpected force, his fingers digging into the back of his shirt.

He allows his eyes to close again as his body begins to respond. “Okay,” he responds simply, and he smiles into the kiss, because it’s been six years and he realizes he’s still in love with Kim Heechul.

It’s kind of sad, though, he reflects as they part panting and Heechul collapses into his couch and he collapses right next to him. The thought occurs to him that Heechul is drunk and feels a sense of guilt rush over him; and yet, Heechul has always been the type to be sincere even when drunk. The thought comforts him a little.

He glances over at the unpredictable man, who is lying there with his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. He’s incredible, in his own way; someone who can look so feminine and so handsome at the same time. He allows his eyes to trail down Heechul’s exposed upper body, his skin smooth and milky-white, his stomach flat and perfect as a girl group member’s, lacking of visible abdominal muscles; and yet, the roughness and fierceness with which he loved.

“What are you thinking about?” Heechul whispers quietly, but it sounds loud in the silence that they share.

“Nothing.” He turns his head slightly, smiling at the tired hyung. “Stay over for tonight and go home tomorrow.”

“Mmm.” Heechul’s eyes are already drifting shut, and within minutes his chest is rising and falling in steady rhythm.

_ What are you thinking about? _

_ Nothing. _

He looks over at Heechul again, with his empyrean beauty, looking so delicate and fragile, yet the faint sting on his lips and skin said otherwise. His eyes soften, and turns away, staring back up at the ceiling surrounded by the silence of his house.

_ Nothing, except for the fact that I might be in love with you. _

He trails his fingers over his lips.

_ And I’m just a temporary escape for you. _

He’s read many storybooks, some immersed in reality while others were more like the fantasy-type novels that teenagers enjoy reading. In some, love is successful. In others, love is hard and cruel.

_ If we were a story, we’d be a twisted fantasy,  _ he muses to himself,  _ because we’re happy by pretending to be in love.  _ His fingers curl in on empty air.  _ This isn’t anything like love, it’s just me being a fool in love with someone who doesn’t love me back _ . He glances over at Heechul, and he wishes that for just this once, he could read what was written in the man’s expressions. But he can’t. He can never.  _ And this is just your messed-up way of trying to feel love again. _

What a twisted fantasy. He laughs quietly to himself, because he knows that at the end of the day it’s still a twisted fantasy he doesn’t want to leave. It’s a story that’ll keep on going, because he would never be the one to put an end to it. If their story finally ended, it would be Heechul to call it quits this time.

And that’s a thought that genuinely scares him, because he realizes that the only time Heechul would stop using him as a twisted way of attempting to feel love again would be when he’s truly found love.

Then, he’ll be left alone.

He’s staring up at the ceiling, and it’s so void and empty and uninteresting, he doesn’t know why he’s staring at it, but perhaps because it’ll hurt less than looking at Heechul. Maybe because keeping his mind blank and idle is better than letting all these thoughts filter through his head. Because he knows that once he lets himself think, he’ll want to be selfish.

He’ll want this twisted fantasy to continue on. He’ll want to prevent Heechul’s true happiness so that he can be happy.

The tears run down his face hot and fast, and he stares up at the ceiling with the frustration exploding within him. They can’t have a true fantasy world without one person suffering.

He doesn’t know how long he spends staring up at his ceiling before he finally allows his eyes to close and let him plunge into a dreamless sleep.

_ What a selfish world. _

When he wakes up, Heechul is gone.

He sits up, ignoring the small ache in his shoulder that came from sleeping on his couch. He’s unable to prevent the empty feeling that surrounds him as he stands up and proceeds to his room.

_ Was that a one-time thing, or will we continue to live in our twisted fantasy?  _ He wonders as he slips a shirt on.

He grabs his phone that he had left on his bed before Heechul came over; he ignores the pang of disappointment when he sees zero contact from Heechul, but he instead notices a new text message from Hyukjae.

_ Siwon-ah, do you know where’s Heechul-hyung? Taeyeon said he left suddenly. _

Sent at 11pm last night.

_ Nevermind, she said he called her this morning to apologize. _

Sent half an hour ago.

He hesitates, sending Hyukjae a text.

_ Why are you asking me? _

Hyukjae doesn’t respond.

He falls back on his bed, groaning a little under his breath. The text just sums up everything he had been wondering about last night; Heechul had been drunk. Drunk enough to ditch one of his best friends.

_ Did Heechul not mean anything last night, then? _

He doesn’t know anymore.

And he’s laughing at himself, laughing at how pathetic he seems, because all he can do is wait for Heechul to come back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone's ooc in this fanfic, i know. ah well, the joys of au's


	4. park jungsoo

He takes a small sip of his drink and makes a face as the strong liquor rushes down his throat. Hyukjae peers at him. “Are you sure you should be drinking? I mean, you don’t usually drink. Why did you call me here anyway? You hate drinking, and the first time I drank I was twenty-seven.”

“It’s just been two glasses, I’ll be fine,” he reassures his dongsaeng, ignoring the second question, but he’s aware of the rosy pink that’s beginning to spread across his cheeks. The last time he ever went drinking with somebody, it was one month ago, when he ended up having to let Heechul sleep in his house.

Which is precisely the reason why he’s drinking now.

He can’t get his mind off Heechul; off the way he smiles, the way he laughs, the way he looks when annoyed, the way they kissed.

It’s driving him insane.

He pours the rest of his third glass down his throat, feeling an unfamiliar buzzing sensation in his head. “Teukie-hyung, you should stop,” Hyukjae mutters, looking worriedly at his leader. “You’re not used to drinking, you’re drunk…”

“I’m not drunk.” The tiny bit of his mind that’s still sober forces him to say that, but it comes out a little slurred. “Maybe I am.”

The thoughts in his head, all collected and organized, are beginning to blur together, and he lets out a sigh at the prevailing thought in his head.  _ I need to get Heechul out of my head. _

He doesn’t really know when was the first time he realized he fell in love with the man. He’s dated for many years, sure, mostly long-term relationships; and all with girls. But after his last relationship ended, and he attempted to start a new one, somewhere halfway through he realized that he smiled more when Heechul talked to him than when his girlfriend cracked jokes, he realized that Heechul was the first person he’d think to call. And when he kissed a girl, he wouldn’t be able to prevent Heechul from crossing his mind.

And then Heechul had gone and gotten drunk and  _ he  _ had gone and taken advantage of the situation by accident and they had ended up in this mess. He still remembers the look on Heechul’s face, the way he said the word ‘stop’. He remembers the way his mind crashed down, how he had frozen at the word, how he fled from the room in fear.

He had never heard from Heechul since, and had never made any attempts to contact him either. Ever since he tried to delude both himself and Heechul that nothing had happened between them, even though they both know it’s a lie.

“What’re you thinking about?” Hyukjae says, peering closely at his – redder-than-usual face, thanks to the alcohol – in curiosity.

“Heechul,” he can’t stop himself from blurting out.

He freezes.

In a split second, he slaps on his fake smile and laughs. “The alcohol is really getting to my head, huh…”

Hyukjae raises an eyebrow, not fooled by his leader’s words. “Teukie-hyung, I’ve known you for too long to believe that,” he says flatly, “But if you didn’t drink, then you wouldn’t have admitted that to me, that’s for sure.”

“Admitted what?” He can feel the smile sitting awkwardly on his lips and internally curses the alcohol. And Heechul.  _ If I didn’t fall in love with you I wouldn’t be in this situation _ . “I didn’t admit anything.”

Hyukjae’s gaze is unnervingly piercing. “I’ve seen the way you look at Heechul-hyung,” he admits finally, “I know you’re in love with him, Teukie-hyung.”

He can’t speak.

“How?” he asks evenly.

Hyukjae takes a small sip from his own glass of alcohol, while he silently curses Hyukjae for being so much more alcohol-tolerant than he is. Or perhaps Hyukjae is just sober because he hasn’t been downing glass after glass. “Ever since your last long-term relationship, you’ve just been having short failed ones. Possibly because you have feelings for someone you can’t have.”

“Doesn’t prove it’s Heechul,” he mutters, already knowing he’s probably going to lose this argument.

“Why are you always the first one by his side when he’s hurting? Why are you always watching him?” Hyukjae pauses, observing his facial expression, which is a mix of broken, awkward and sad all in one. “Why were you sad when he got a girlfriend? And why do you look so sad now when I mention him?”

“Fine.” He’s surprised by the laughter that slips from his mouth. “You’re right, Hyukjae.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know I was that easy to read.” He shrugs a little. “Honestly, I didn’t know it myself either, for a while.”

“But now you do.” Hyukjae looks at him. “But did something happen?”

He doesn’t know if it’s because of the alcohol, or because he genuinely needs someone who he can spill all these secrets he’s kept for so long to. “I screwed up,” he confesses in a quick rush of breath. “I screwed up last month, when we went drinking.”

Hyukjae tilts his head a little. “Uh, I was completely drunk and Donghae just dumped me in my living room before leaving so I don’t really remember what happened. But yes, go on.”

“He told me he wanted to stay with me, so I let him stay in my house.” He hesitates, wondering how much to tell Hyukjae. “He was drunk. Very drunk.”

Hyukjae’s eyes widen in understanding. “Ah… So, you-”

“We kissed,” he states bluntly. Hyukjae’s expression doesn’t change, as if unsurprised. “And he told me to stop.”

This time, a look of surprise crosses Hyukjae’s face. “He was drunk, but he told you to stop?”

He shrugs. “There was this kind of light in his eyes. As if he had regained some sobriety in that instant and realized that I wasn’t the person he wants to be kissing. We haven’t spoken since. I told him to forget anything ever happened, and we haven’t spoken since.” He lets his head drop. “I screwed up, Hyukjae-ah.”

Hyukjae looks at him. “I didn’t take you to be the person who liked men, to be honest.”

“I didn’t,” he mutters, “Until Heechul. The worst part is Heechul is the biggest lady’s man out there, and I had to kiss him.” He smiles. “It would be less awkward if I were a girl who got rejected. But I’m a guy.”

“Teukie-hyung?” He looks up to see Hyukjae clearing his throat awkwardly, his tone dropping to a lower volume. “I honestly shouldn’t be telling you, and I don’t know if it’ll make you feel better or worse. But Heechul does like men.”

He nearly chokes on – nothing in particular, he just gapes at Hyukjae in disbelief. “How? Have you seen the number of girls that guy has gone out with?”

“He’s never had a relationship that’s lasted longer than a few months,” Hyukjae fires back, “And I swore to keep this secret, but before Heechul’s enlistment, he and Siwon were… Together.”

It’s almost like a slap to his face. In an instant, it feels like his blurry thoughts have been forced back to their collected organization, like every drop of alcohol has been drained from his system. He fixes a focused gaze on Hyukjae. “Heechul… and Siwon?”

He doesn’t know whether to smile, laugh or cry. The fact that two members were having a relationship of sorts without anyone knowing, even their leader; the fact that Heechul indeed had a thing for guys; the fact that Heechul was in a relationship with someone who wasn’t him.

“Are they still…?” He trails off.

“I don’t know. Heechul drank with Taeyeon last night, she said he ditched him halfway.”

“Where were they drinking?” As he asks the question, he feels his heart thumping in his chest, because he’s already fearing the worst.

“Gangnam.”

And there it is. The shocking truth, the revelation that he had feared so much. Heechul had gone to Siwon when he was drunk. No one had taken him there; he had gone by his own free will. He scoffs to himself – so this is what it feels like when someone you love chooses someone else over you.

“Teukie-hyung,” Hyukjae says gently, “If you’re really in love, then why don’t you just confess to Heechul-hyung?”

He smiles wryly. “It’s not that easy. I don’t really want to go to his house to be rejected again.”

“What if he doesn’t reject you?”

_ What if? _

_ He has Siwon. _

_ But what if? _

“Life isn’t a fairytale, Hyukjae-ah,” he can only whisper helplessly.

Hyukjae smiles. “Heechul-hyung’s and Siwon’s relationship isn’t a fairytale either, hyung. Won’t you trust me and go for it?”

“I…  _ can’t _ .”

“If you’re so in love with him, will you not even bother to try?” Hyukjae presses. A conflicted look clouds his face, and he tries to control the millions of thoughts running through his head, all centered around the same person.

“I think we should stop here, hyung,” Hyukjae continues after a brief pause, “You should go home and think. I’ll pay.”

His head is spinning too much with everything that Hyukjae has told him to argue; standing on somewhat shaky legs, he nods towards Hyukjae. “Thanks. I’ll pay the next time.”

“Just go,” Hyukjae laughs, “Knowing you, the next time might be quite a while later.”

He smiles weakly, turning and exiting.

His instincts drive him towards seeing Heechul, his brain argues venomously.

But he supposes that’s the main thing that highlights his and Heechul’s differences; he always thinks with his head, while Heechul acts on his instinct.

He goes to his own house and closes the door.

**Four-half; ** ** _Lee Hyukjae_ **

He watches with a thoughtful expression as his leader leaves the place, his mind clearly wandering. He chuckles to himself.  _ I didn’t expect Teukie-hyung to confess that easily. _

He’s seen it all many times, watching an outsider; probably due to the number of years that he’s known them, coupled with the knowledge that Heechul had been in a relationship with a guy.

He has seen the way Jungsoo had to fight to keep up a smile every time Heechul declared he was going to confess to a girl. He has seen the way Jungsoo had to fight to keep a smile down every time Heechul ended a relationship with a girl.

He has seen the way Jungsoo was always next to Heechul when he needed him; he has seen the way Jungsoo had pressed the number 4 on speed dial to call Heechul.

He can’t pinpoint a specific date when Jungsoo fell in love with Heechul, but he has seen videos on YouTube of their Super Camp; he has seen the way Jungsoo laughed when Heechul danced energetically. A small chuckle escapes his lips as he remembers watching the kissing games with disbelief – the way their lips touched while biting down on the pepero stick, the way Jungsoo’s eyes closed for no one but Heechul. The way Jungsoo used his tongue – he can’t help but chuckle more at the pure transparency of his leader – during the paper kiss in his attempt to kiss Heechul for real.

He takes a sip of his alcohol, finishing the last drop before asking for the bill. To tell the truth, he isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to love, considering he hasn’t dated half as many girls as Heechul or had as long of relationships as Jungsoo.

But he can see what they can’t. He can see that way Jungsoo is so blindly in love with Heechul, it almost hurts him too to see Jungsoo staring at the back of the other 83-liner as he chats with somebody else.

He can see what both of them can’t see. He’s spilled to Jungsoo that the way he loves is too transparent, too clear in his eyes; but what he never told the man, partly to avoid getting his hopes up too high, partly to let him make his own move, was the way Heechul looked at Jungsoo in a way that was more than just friendship. Perhaps not the same devotion that Jungsoo had of Heechul, but something faintly bordering on the concept of love.

Jungsoo has known what love feels like before; and now he has dedicated – or rather, had little choice in the matter but to dedicate – that feeling to Heechul. Heechul has never known what love feels like; and he has little idea of what emotions he harbours towards the leader.

But he has seen the way the corners of Heechul’s eyes crinkle up in a genuine smile when Jungsoo cracks a joke, the way Heechul laughs so loudly and freely around his friend.

He has seen the way that Heechul didn’t seem too disappointed when Jungsoo’s relationship ended. He has seen the way Heechul’s gaze darted quickly to Jungsoo when he announced a new relationship.

He has seen the way Heechul defends the leader, warning the younger ones not to play around with him too much; he has seen the way Heechul clicks the name at the top of his contact list to call Jungsoo.

He has seen the way Heechul’s eyes closed only for Jungsoo as their lips touched for that fleeting second on camera; he has seen the way Heechul didn’t push Jungsoo away even when he stuck his tongue through the paper and into Heechul’s mouth.

He can see the way Heechul’s lips curve into such a genuinely joyous smile around Jungsoo, he can see the way Heechul cares so genuinely for Jungsoo.

_ More than he cares for Siwon. _

The thought crosses his mind briefly, and guilt and pity for his friend overwhelms him; he signs the bill hastily before standing up to leave.

_ But it’s still true. _


	5. kim heechul

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers, and his voice is so raw and choked he can barely hear himself. The tears are flowing unstoppably down his pale cheeks, and he’s shivering in the cold that the winter breezes bring. “You can’t leave me. Not like this.”

His hands reach out, clasping around empty air. It’s always like this. Always reaching out and closing on nothing. Because everyone is already gone.

The first time, it was winter too. He still remembers crying, calling out Hangeng’s name over and over, only to fall to his knees when his hands closed around nothing.

It had ended like that.

The second time, it was the autumn before his enlistment. He remembers staring blankly, almost in a daze, as he watched Siwon’s tall silhouette moving away until it was finally out of his sight. He remembers feeling numb inside; not crying, but motionless, disbelieving. He had reached out, but no one had reappeared in his vision.

It had ended like that.

This time, it’s winter again, and he’s crying again. He reaches out again, and the result is the same as before. This time, he’s too weary to drop to his knees. He stands, surrounded by the blistering cold around him, letting himself cry until the tears dry up.

He hates every moment of this. Partly because he hates how weak he feels when he’s alone crying, mostly because every time he wakes up, the person who leaves in his dream is gone in reality too.

“Who are you?” he whispers to the winds around him. “Why didn’t you show yourself this time? Who is the one who will leave me this time?”

And then, an unexpected warmth travels down his spine; a breath on the back of his neck that sends warmth rushing through his body, a pair of strong arms wrapping around his waist and holding him tight, a gloved hand reaching up to brush the remainder of tears from his icy-cold face.

This has never happened before.

“Who are you?” he whispers weakly. “And why didn’t you leave?”

The voice whispers back to him, holding him tight and giving him warmth in the bitter cold, whispering little praises and promises that he’ll never leave.

And then he starts to cry again, because it’s the first time he has someone who has never left his side, who promised him his undying loyalty and love. “Don’t cry,” the voice whispers to him quietly, and he feels a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’m here.”

When Hangeng had wrapped his arms around him before leaving, it had been the last time.

When Siwon had kissed him before leaving, it had been the last time in a long time.

But now, when this man came and wrapped his arms around him and gave him that light kiss, it was the start of something; someone who wouldn’t leave. He lets his walls crumble down, he lets the hot tears slide down his cheeks, and he reaches down, allowing his fingers to close around the man’s tightly.

“Promise me you won’t leave.”

“I never did, and I never will.”

He leans into the man’s embrace that feels more familiar than it should, he closes his eyes and lets the voice that he recognizes better than he should lull him back into a peaceful sleep, he smiles and allows a scent that he knows all too well to surround him.

When he awakens, tears are lingering on his cheeks, but for the first time ever since the last time he woke up crying, they aren’t tears of sorrow or fear or pain.

His awakening is a stark contrast to his dream; he stares across his bed at the emptiness that is his apartment, and his heart pangs at the sudden loneliness compared to the warmth and the joy that surrounded him in his dream.

_ Come and make it better. Come and chase this loneliness in my heart away. _

He doesn’t know how selfish he’s being. He doesn’t know if this will make things worse.

He does it anyway.

He clicks on his contacts book, tapping the name at the very top of his ‘favourites’ section and leaves it on speaker. It rings, playing a familiar tune, and for a moment he wonders if he’ll even pick up after what happened between them.

He does.

“… Hi.” He sounds awkward, hesitant, even after close to two months have passed.

“Can you come over?”

For a moment, he’s expecting him to decline respectfully, tell him he has another schedule somewhere as an excuse to flee.

“Okay.”

He has the decency to brush his teeth and get changed into something a little more presentable; it barely takes his – friend? He doesn’t quite know what is going on between them anymore – time before he’s ringing the doorbell.

He swings open the door, and Jungsoo smiles back at him.

In that instant, his reality is flooded with the same warmth and joy again.

“Hi.” He flinches at how unlike himself he sounds; he clears his throat and starts again, in a brasher voice that sounds more like himself. “Come in.”

Jungsoo nods, stepping into his apartment. “Why did you call?” His voice is quiet, gentle, cautious.

“Why did you come?” He responds vaguely.

“Because you wanted me to.” Jungsoo’s reply is flat, blunt, yet sent emotions he can’t put to words coursing through his veins.

“Why are you always here for me when I need you?” He queries; a question he’s genuinely curious about.

Jungsoo holds his gaze with a surprising daringness. “Do you need me right now?”

He pauses.

“Yeah.”

Jungsoo shrugs. “Then I’ll come.”

“Why?” he presses.

“Does that need an explanation?” Jungsoo replies.

“Why are you always here for me when I’m not there for you?” he shoots back. “You should stop being such a perfect friend to me, Jungsoo.”

Jungsoo raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“It’s too early in the morning to have a serious conversation,” he mutters. “I called you because I was lonely and bored.”

“It’s eleven, Heechul,” Jungsoo responds with a glance at the clock hanging from the wall in his living room, “Am I the first person you call when you’re lonely?”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself, jerk,” he mutters in response, scoffing at his friend for his evident pride, but more so scoffing at himself because it’s kind of true.

Jungsoo follows him as he heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. “So, it’s eleven. Why can’t I be a perfect friend to you?”

He ignores the question again, pouring a glass of water and handing it to Jungsoo. “Are we back to normal again?”

“N – nothing happened.” There’s a shakiness in Jungsoo’s reply that’s clear to both of them.

He sighs. “That’s a lie that you can’t delude both of us into believing, Jungsoo, and I know you didn’t dismiss it as easily as that either.”

In that instance, he sees the flash of fear and uncertainty in Jungsoo’s gaze; he notices how his friend stiffens immediately, how his mouth opens but no words fall out. “Jungsoo-yah.” He notices how his friend flinches upon hearing his own name. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jungsoo forces a smile onto his face. “How did I not do anything wrong?”

“I was drunk,” he states matter-of-factly, “So it was my fault since I pretty much encouraged the kiss anyway.” He eyes Jungsoo, who seems rather uncomfortable at his blunt way of speaking about their whole incident, “Besides, I know how irresistible I am, even to men.”

Jungsoo hesitates, words lingering at the tip of his tongue, not knowing how to respond. “So is this the reason why you called me?”

“Partly yes, to clear up things so we would stop ignoring each other,” he says after taking a drink of his water. “Mostly just to see you.”

Jungsoo’s expression is hard to read as he repeats the words slowly. “See me? Why?”

“I had a dream,” he confesses, figuring it would be easier to tell the truth. “Do you remember? In 2011 when I woke up crying, and you were there to comfort me.”

“Yeah.” In 2011, shortly after Hangeng’s departure, when he had awoken with tears running down his face and his roommate – Jungsoo – had been beside him in an instant, peppering him with comforting words and questions like ‘what’s wrong?’.

“I dreamed again.” He sees the worry that flashes across Jungsoo’s face and smiles a little. “But no one left me this time. It was different from the other times…” He tilts his head. “This person didn’t walk away from me. It was the first time my fingers wrapped around somebody else’s in my dream. I woke up crying, but mostly because a nightmare turned into a dream.”

He pauses. “The person was perfect. A perfect friend to me. Someone who loved me.”

“What happened in the dream?” The question slips out of Jungsoo’s mouth almost naturally.

“He held me tight and promised me he would never leave. He was so warm, so caring… He almost made me realize what love felt like for the first time.” His throat is tight at the memory.

“Who was it?”

He smiles. “You.”

Jungsoo stares at him for the longest time, and he attempts to decipher to emotions on Jungsoo’s face. “This is the problem,” he sighs, after a bit, “You’re the only one who can read my expressions, but I can never read yours well.”

“I was in your dream?” he questions, almost partially in disbelief.

He nods.

“Why?”

“At first, I was crying because I thought someone was going to leave me again.” He broke eye contact. “I thought you were going to leave me. But then you hugged me from behind and comforted me like you always do and you promised that you would stay with me forever.”

“Are you sure it was me?”

“I didn’t see your face,” he admits, watching as hope, sadness, uncertainty and fear appeared on Jungsoo’s face in a mix of emotions all at once. “But I felt your arms around my waist, and the voice that spoke was yours, and it smelled like the soap that you use.”

“Why would it be me?” Jungsoo queries. “It’s never happened before.”

He shrugs. “My dreams usually tell the truth. So now you can’t leave me, okay?”

Jungsoo breaks into small laughter. “Okay, I’ll be your perfect friend.”

He feels the warmth spreading across his chest, and the genuine smile that appears on his face without him even knowing. “Good.”

“So there’s nothing between us now?” Jungsoo asks cautiously.

“We’re friends, just as we’ve always been.” He tips his head to the side. “Unless you want to be more than just friends. I mean, if you genuinely like me and all-”

“Let’s not worsen things between us again, Heechul,” Jungsoo sighs, although he can see the faint blush spreading across the leader’s cheeks. “Stop playing around.”

“It wouldn’t be playing around if we’re both sober, right?” he whispers, leaning forward to capture Jungsoo’s gaze in his own intense one; he’s rewarded with a sense of satisfaction when he sees the way Jungsoo’s cheeks grow hot and the way his pupils dilate. He smirks mischievously, moving back and breaking the eye contact.

“No,” Jungsoo says, “But that won’t happen.”

He smiles in amusement; he’s not a mind-reader, but he’s known the leader for over a decade now, long enough to know that he is indeed rather shaken.

“Are you in love with me?” he asks, so suddenly that Jungsoo’s eyes widen in shock.

“N – no.”

“Why did you kiss me then?” he challenges.

“I thought we said we would drop this, Heechul.”

His lips curve into a small smirk. “Okay.”

**Five-half; ** ** _Park Jungsoo_ **

He’s taken aback by the question, and when he opens his mouth a stuttering mess of a word falls out. “N – no.”

_ Very much yes. _

“I thought we said we would drop this, Heechul,” he says in an attempt to get his friend’s mind off the topic.

Half because he doesn’t want there to be a possibility of them arguing, half because he’s terrified that he might slip up and say the wrong thing.

In other words, terrified that he might accidentally tell Heechul he loves him.

He takes his time drinking from the glass of water that Heechul has offered to him, running through various scenarios and forming appropriate sentences in his head.

“If I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

Every word within every script that he’d been mentally writing has vanished into thin air at the question; he recoils in surprise, accidentally placing the glass of water down with more intensity than required.

“N – no.”

_ Probably yes. _

“You sure?” Heechul’s gaze is piercing, intense, unsettling.

Siwon flashes through his mind, and he grits his teeth – the determination he feels to prove that Heechul can’t get to him as easily as he thinks.

_ What a joke. You’re just angry and hurt because he chose Siwon over you. _

Ignoring the thoughts swirling through his mind, he repeats himself, firmer this time. “No.”

“Kiss me.”

Heechul leans over in his direction, looking at him with widened eyes, his lips parted just a little, looking so damn irresistible that he found it physically and mentally difficult to refuse him.

_ He has Siwon. _

“No.”

Heechul leans back, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re different. I like you.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” Heechul says calmly, “That was a joke. But, if you allow me to quote what you said before, you don’t have to be exceptionally nice to me, just stay by my side forever.”

“I will,” he says, the promise slipping from his mouth so naturally.

And in Heechul’s eyes he sees the child-like part of him that he usually keeps stashed away; the excitement at having a perfect friend, the gratitude of having someone there for him, the selfish part of him that wants someone who he can lean on, and the child-like wonder of having his dreams translated into reality.

He smiles.

“I will,” he repeats again, but softly this time – under his breath, to himself.


	6. kim heechul

He waves goodbye as Jungsoo exits his house after staying over for lunch. His apartment is all silent and empty again, but this time he doesn’t feel the loneliness.

“You know, I could almost fall in love with you,” he mutters to no one in particular, then freezes at the gravity of his own words strike him.

Falling in love is a foreign concept to him. Sure, he’s dated before – dated  _ many  _ times before, and it’s not like he’s never had some form of a relationship, albeit a little twisted, with a guy before. But he’s never really loved someone before, which may be why all his relationships have barely lasted over a few months.

He ponders on the concept of love.

He skims his bookshelf and picks out a book; the classic fairytale, Cinderella, a book he had purchased mostly because of his title as Super Junior’s Cinderella. The pages are a little worn, with the book being one that he reads most often – he’s heard that life and love is nothing like a fairytale, and his love life more than proves that, so he satiates the childish desire for fantasy within him by reading fairytales; things which allow him to immerse himself in something perfect. His temporary escape from the imperfection of reality.

A Prince Charming who accepts Cinderella for who she is, even without the fancy dresses and wealth and false beauty achieved by expensive adornings; he supposes he can view that as Jungsoo in a way, his perfect friend, and himself as Cinderella. The one who has temporary moments of stunning beauty, radiant and proud, and the one who is nothing better than a lifeless servant at times; not that he’s ever been treated like one, of course, but in the sense that he’s had his ups and downs.

And Jungsoo had been there to experience majority of his ups and downs, and he had been there to enjoy the good parts and he had been there to pull him through the bad parts. A Prince Charming who had always been there by his side regardless of how ugly he seemed at times.

He wonders why he’s only noticed it now; the prince who had never left his side, always quietly supporting him and yet never asking for anything back in return. The friend who loved him despite all his flaws and imperfections, the friend who has always been by his side.

It took him so long to find his Prince Charming – no, he corrects himself, not  _ find _ , because Jungsoo had been there for a long time. It took him so long to realize that his Prince Charming – ironic, a while back he would’ve believed it to be his princess, but fate has its own weird ideas about life and love sometimes – had been right there all along.

Is this what people call love? A good question, something worth pondering. He is aware that Jungsoo loves him, but he knows not to what extent. He knows Jungsoo loves him as a friend, a friendship that both of them mutually share with one another. As for a different kind of relationship that the word ‘love’ suggests, he knows that Jungsoo feels it to  _ some  _ extent – the way he stiffens and his eyes dilate when he leans in too close or brushes against Jungsoo’s skin, the way he had kissed him desperately; but he doesn’t know to what extent.

He doesn’t quite know or understand his own feelings, either. He knows he loves Jungsoo as his perfect friend – a thought that has always driven him to feel guilty, considering he isn’t as perfect a friend to Jungsoo as Jungsoo is to him – but other than that, he has zero idea.

He wouldn’t call it love, not yet. Just the small inkling of interest and curiosity. When Jungsoo kissed him, he hadn’t minded; he had actually enjoyed it quite a little. And when he had dared Jungsoo to kiss him earlier, there was a small part of him that actually wished he had.

But it isn’t love.

Not yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s never experienced it, so he can’t classify this expression known as ‘love’. But he’s not ready to confront his feelings about Jungsoo, not quite yet. He knows the prospect of being in love terrifies him; he’s terrified at the possibility that he may be in love with his friend, and terrified at the possibility of it just being a temporary thing.

The kiss. It could have been something that triggered him into thinking about everything that Jungsoo had done for him, a shocking realization that Jungsoo loved him as more than a friend and that the possibility of him doing the same was also there - but it could also be something that was so sudden, so shocking that it was some form of a forced love, a love that was there temporarily.

He doesn’t know.

He opens his eyes, greeted by the familiar wall of his room across from his bed. The familiar emptiness begins to settle in his chest, then he’s suddenly reminded of Jungsoo, and he feels a not-so-familiar warmth calm his senses.

He fell asleep past three last night after gaming, partly because he genuinely enjoyed gaming, partly to take his mind of Jungsoo.

_ Who knew love was such a troublesome thing? _

He shakes his head.  _ I’m not in love. _

He’s never felt this way with his past girlfriends before – but then again, he reminds himself, he got all of them in the blink of an eye; they never made him think about ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’. They were just  _ there _ , readily kissing him, eager to go out with him.

_ You could have Jungsoo in the blink of an eye if you want _ , the voice in his head whispers.

The idea is tempting, to see the leader powerless in his hands. And yet there’s something that stops him, prevents him from doing so, something that whispers to him that Jungsoo matters a whole world more than any of his previous lovers.

_ Even Siwon? _

Siwon. The man he had been with before his enlistment; the man he had gone to most recently, albeit extremely drunk. The closest he had been to ‘love’ before.

If Jungsoo hadn’t kissed him that night, if Jungsoo hadn’t made him ponder about love, would he have fallen in love with Siwon?

He clicks on a name.

The name at the top of his contacts list.

“Hello?” The phone line is crackling a little, but he hears his friend just fine.

“Jungsoo?”

“What is it, Heechul?” There’s a shifting sound in the background.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Jungsoo is clearly flustered, given how his voice shakes a tiny bit in incredulity. “Heechul, I’m recording now. I have schedules today.”

“Later, then.”

Jungsoo sighs. “I said no, Heechul.”

There are more noises in the background, someone yelling Jungsoo’s stage name, then Jungsoo tells Heechul he has to go, and then the annoying ‘beep’ sound that signals he’s hung up fills the room.

“Jerk,” Heechul mutters under his breath. “Fine, later.”

He busies himself with boring tasks just to fill up his time; he doesn’t have schedules today, and he’s forgotten how mind-numbingly boring life was during breaks. He straightens chairs that he’s never sat on, washed mugs that he’s never used, tidied the bookshelf that he barely touched.

He’s bored. Bored out of his mind; which is most likely the reason why he practically dives for his phone when he hears a notification sound.

He doesn’t know what makes him anticipate it to be Jungsoo, and he doesn’t know what causes the disappointment he feels when he realizes it isn’t.

It’s Siwon. A simple three-word text.

_ I miss you _ .

He knows what these three words entail. The last time, he had gone straight to him, he had let him do whatever he wanted.

He wonders what’s stopping him now.

He ignores the text and places his phone aside, turning back to his computer for gaming.

He wonders how, in the span of a few days, the one he’ll go to is Jungsoo and not Siwon now.

No, he corrects himself once again, he had always gone to Siwon. But Jungsoo had always come to him whenever he called; whenever he needed his friend, Jungsoo would go to him.

Time passes faster when he’s absorbed in gaming, and he’s glad. He stops after a game to order food for lunch; he finishes that quickly enough, and he’s back in front of his computer.

He’s partway through a game when the doorbell rings, and he can’t help but to growl under his breath in annoyance. It rings again and he scowls, leaving his seat in front of the computer to answer the doorbell.

He opens the door, not bothering to hide his bad mood. He’s met with a figure a lot more muscular than he is, and a little taller.

“Siwon?” He questions. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t reply to my text,” Siwon responds with a small frown. “Why did you ignore my text, hyung?”

“I read it, but a delivery came and it slipped my mind,” he explains smoothly, thankful for his actor side when Siwon seems to buy it. “Sorry. What did you want?”

“I missed you.”

“It’s only been a month since we last saw each other.”

Siwon raises his eyebrows. “We used to see each other every day last time, you know.”

He chuckles quietly. “Yeah, that’s true. I guess we’ve both been busy these days, huh? And now we all live apart from one another, and we’re not as active nowadays, so it gets harder and harder to see each other.”

“Hyung.” He’s taken aback at the odd, unusual desperation in Siwon’s voice. “I love you.”

For an instant he’s shocked into silence at the sudden confession; a phrase he hadn’t heard leave Siwon’s mouth since six years ago, and a deep sorrow he hasn’t seen in Siwon’s gaze since they parted ways six years ago. “I love you too,” he says, his eyes softening.

“I missed you,” Siwon whispers, a vulnerable shell of the man with the charming, charismatic, manly image. He feels Siwon’s breath tickling his ear as the taller man moves closer to him; he doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t move forward either.

“I missed you too,” he responds, and yet his body doesn’t move as Siwon trails familiar kisses down his neck, getting rougher by the second.

“Is something on your mind? You seem distracted,” Siwon says, stepping back for a moment.

He stares blankly at the younger for a moment before responding. “No, there’s nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I’m sorry, I slept late last night. I must be a little tired.”

Siwon nods, buying his excuse. “Do you want to rest? Did I interrupt you when you were resting?”

“No, it’s okay,” he says, and this time he’s the one to make a move, pulling Siwon closer to him.

_ I’m distracted. _

_ Take my mind off it. _

_ You’ve always been able to do that well. _

_ Take my mind off Jungsoo. _

He trails light kisses along Siwon’s chiseled jawline, breathing in his scent that was so  _ different  _ from Jungsoo’s in a way. Siwon gives off a nice scent in a manlier way, reminding him of those strong muscled guys who are forever in the gym, reminding him of those guys who are strong enough to protect someone against anything. Jungsoo’s give off the sense of a strong guy too, but with this calm gentleness, someone who would hold someone close instead of standing in front of them to shield them.

Siwon responds instinctively, entangling his fingers in his hair and bringing their faces so close that they could feel each other’s breath heating each other’s cheeks. He’s more aggressive, the little tugs at his hair, the kisses along his skin that get rougher as they turn into small love bites. Jungsoo’s kisses are more tender, more passionate, soft butterfly kisses along his skin that turn into deeper ones as time goes by, little tentative nibbles along the surface of his skin, his hand around the back of his partner’s neck holding him close.

_ Stop thinking about Jungsoo _ , he scolds himself mentally, responding to Siwon with the same amount of aggression, roughly grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down so they would be face-to-face with one another.

Their eyes meet, clouded and lost somewhere between desire and emotion. Siwon, impatient, is the first to make a move. Siwon’s lips crash down hard onto his, so rough he wonders if it’ll leave a mark. He kisses back with equal force, refusing to lose in a battle of dominance.

He kisses back, but it feels so wrong, somehow.

He doesn’t understand at first. He doesn’t understand why his heart, his emotions are just a dull splash of grey. He doesn’t understand why he’s half-forcing his body to react, almost as if he were present but somewhere else at the same time.

Park Jungsoo crosses his mind.

In that moment, the realization strikes him harder than a bolt of lightning, and he looks at the man before his eyes.

And he pushes him away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.


	7. choi siwon

He knows Kim Heechul a lot better than Kim Heechul knows him. He’s tried hard to read the expressions across Heechul’s face many times before, but he still can’t. He has no idea of what the man is thinking, of when he’ll laugh or when he’ll snap.

But he understands. He has a faint understanding of the man, no matter how complex and confusing his behavior and personality is.

So he knows from the start, when Heechul makes something up about there being a delivery. He doesn’t know why he’s lying, but he reaches the understanding that Heechul is attempting to deceive him. He pretends to believe him, nodding and smiling.

When he tells Heechul he misses him, he sees the expression written across his hyung’s face. He doesn’t know what it means, but he understands that Heechul isn’t completely focused on his words.

When he says “I love you”, and Heechul replies with “I love you too”, he doesn’t know what the emotions in Heechul’s eyes read, but he understands well enough that Heechul doesn’t mean it.

It hurts, even though he already knows. In this twisted fantasy that he continues to live in, he’s desperately in love with somebody who will never love him back. The reality hurts, and every time Heechul says it, it’s like another spear piercing through his heart.

And yet, he continues with his twisted fantasy. He moves closer to Heechul, and as expected, his hyung doesn’t mind. He tells Heechul he misses him once again, and Heechul responds similarly. Once again, he doesn’t know why Heechul bothers, but he understands that it’s a lie.

He kisses his hyung’s neck, something he always does. He doesn’t react.

He isn’t surprised. It hurts, but this is the twisted fantasy that he chooses to live in.

When he asks Heechul if there’s anything on his mind and Heechul gives out yet another excuse, he nods his head, pretending to buy the excuse. He knows that there is something on his hyung’s mind, but he doesn’t know what. He does, however, understand well that his hyung is the type of person to stay up late every night playing games, so sleeping late would never affect him.

And then Heechul pulls him close and begins to kiss his jawline roughly, and he allows himself to enjoy it. He doesn’t know what it is that causes him to be like this, but he understands that the lips that plant little kisses down his skin aren’t sincere.

Their gazes meet, and their eyes are both glassy. He’s sure his own is a mix of lust and love for his hyung, and he can see a reflection of his own expression in his hyung’s eyes. He doesn’t know who, but he understands that the tender emotion in his hyung’s gaze is not meant for him.

He kisses Heechul hard like he’s been longing to ever since he woke up to Heechul’s disappearance last month. Heechul kisses back with equal aggressiveness, and he feels Heechul’s nails digging into his back sharply.

Once again, it’s impossible for him to know the reason, to understand the emotions and thoughts running through Heechul’s mind. It’s impossible for him to realize what Heechul is feeling from the touch of his lips.

But he understands that when he closed his eyes and his lips met Heechul’s almost desperately, Heechul didn’t close his eyes.

He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know why Heechul does what he does. He’s never known. He’s never known why Heechul has the ability to make his legs tremble and make his pupils dilate and make him turn into jelly either. He’s never known why he wants to stay trapped within this twisted fairytale even though there were fairytales waiting for him out there.

He’s never known why or how he fell so deeply in love with the man known as Kim Heechul.

But as Heechul’s eyes, remaining unforgivingly open, widen and he feels himself being pushed away abruptly, he comes to the understanding that he is not the one that Kim Heechul is in love with.

As Heechul stares at him and whispers “I’m sorry”, he can’t identify the mix of emotions in those two words, but he understands what it entails.

Now he’s crying, he’s crying out of his own foolishness and his foolish heart, he’s crying because he ended up falling in love with someone who didn’t love him back, he’s crying because his foolish heart gave him no choice but to live within the chapters of this twisted fantasy.

The hot tears make their way down his cheeks, he’s crying hard enough that his shoulders are beginning to tremble, and he feels Heechul’s fingers stroke the tears away, and as usual he’s too weak to bring himself to push him away.

He’s crying harder, because even though it’s come to an end his foolish heart still wants to live in the realm of this twisted fantasy more.

Or maybe he’s crying hard not because his foolish heart craves for more, but because he understands what the end of his twisted realm means.

A twisted fantasy only transforms into a fairytale when the protagonist finds true love and happiness.

Heechul’s still staring at him, not knowing how to react, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. The man his foolish heart chose to fall for, the man who gave the love that was never his to somebody else.

He doesn’t know who, or how, or why.

He doesn’t know why it could never be him.

He doesn’t know why it was never him.

He doesn’t know why their twisted fantasy could never be a fairytale starring the both of them.

He doesn’t know who it is who is special enough to have Heechul’s love.

He doesn’t know how Heechul fell in love for the first time in his life.

But as hard as it is to accept the reality, he comes to the understanding that the man his foolish heart still pines for has found his own fairytale.

And just like that, the chapters in their twisted fantasy abruptly came to their end.

Not theirs.

His.

His tears have stopped now, and he silently watches the man who has finally found his own fairytale. Cinderella and the prince.

He supposes that in a way, he always knew he wouldn’t have the chance to be the prince. He doesn’t know whether to cry again or to laugh or to run and never look back. He doesn’t know, but he understands. He’s never known, but he always understands. He’s never known why it couldn’t be him, but he always understands that he’ll never be the one.

“I’m sorry,” Heechul repeats after a long silence between them, and his voice is cracking.

“Don’t be.” He’s surprised at how steady his voice is.

He doesn’t know why reality is like this, but he understands that people can’t help who their foolish hearts choose to fall in love with.

“I made a mistake,” Heechul says, with a slight tremor in his voice. “I didn’t mean to. I was just distracted and tired, that’s all.”

He looks at the man he loved – loves? He doesn’t know – with soft eyes.

He understands that Heechul is lying, once again.

He understands that Heechul never closed his eyes.

He understands that Heechul pushed him away.

He understands that Heechul was never in love with him, that he never had a chance, not once.

And yet, his foolish heart is aching to take this opportunity, to forgive everything, to be pulled back into Heechul’s warm embrace and his rough kisses and his little nips against the skin. His foolish heart still wants Heechul to run his hands all over his skin, mark him as his, spend nights lost in a tangle of limbs as they once did.

Then, there’s that tiniest part of him, the tiny portion of his mind screaming at him to stop, to run now and stop torturing his foolish heart like this. There’s this one small logical portion in his brain telling him that this twisted fantasy has come to an end, that Heechul has written a fairytale without him inside.

He clings to that part, that small part of sanity.

“Let’s just stay as friends from now on, hyung,” he forces himself to say, even though his foolish heart is shattering into pieces.

He turns his back for the first time.

This time, he’ll be the one to disappear.

His first disappearance will be his last. He’ll disappear like a bubble popping at the surface of the water. He’ll disappear from Heechul’s sight. He’ll run and wait for the scars inflicted deep on his foolish heart to heal.

With his hand on the doorknob, he breathes in deep and swings it open.

And that’s when he comes face-to-face with someone he isn’t quite expecting; somebody who stares at him wide-eyed, jaw almost dropping with shock.

And when he turns and he sees Heechul run to the door, and he sees the mix of emotions on Heechul’s face, it dawns on him and he doesn’t know whether to cry or smile.

So he smiles, holding back the tears that are threatening to fall from his face.

“Jungsoo,” Heechul breathes, “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t know how it happened, but he understands. The pieces of the puzzle have finally assembled; he doesn’t know how anything happened, why anything happened, but he understands.

He understands now who Kim Heechul fell in love with.

Nodding his head to his leader, frozen in place, he exits the apartment. He waits until he gets into his car; it’s then when he allows his foolish heart to shatter once more, and he allows the tears that he’s been holding back to flow down.

Just like that, the last word in the last chapter of his twisted fantasy has been written.

  
  


**Seven-half; ** ** _Lee Hyukjae_ **

He wonders how things are going between his leader and Heechul. It’s been a while – a month or so – since Jungsoo had gotten drunk and spilled everything about his feelings towards Heechul.

_ I wonder if Heechul-hyung realized that he’s in love with Teukie-hyung.  _ He pauses. Would Heechul be able to fall in love? He can only wonder.

He hopes so, though. He hopes that both of them can realize the feelings they share towards one another, he hopes they can be like the prince and princess in fairytales, in their perfect worlds, writing a perfect story together.

He already knows that the things that his hyungs have gone through strayed far from perfect; but at least, hopefully, their stories can intertwine to form a perfect fairytale ending.

He looks down at the book which he holds in his hands, his fingers idly tracing the spine. A children’s classic fairytale, the Little Mermaid.

He laughs quietly to himself, feeling that guilt that creeps over him all over at the thought of his close friend. He’s seen the way Jungsoo looks at Heechul, and he’s seen the way Heechul looks at Jungsoo.

But he’s never missed the way Siwon looks at Heechul either. He knows, he’s aware of the situation. He knows his friend loves Heechul the way Heechul doesn’t love him.

And he feels selfish all of a sudden, because he knows that in hoping that Heechul is happy with somebody else, his friend’s heart will be in so much pain.

_ In the end, Cinderella married her Prince Charming. _

He wonders if Jungsoo will be Heechul’s Prince Charming.

He wonders how this story will play out.

He knows the many possibilities; the first would be if neither admitted to their feelings. It would allow Siwon to live within his own fairytale, and Prince Charming would never find the one with the glass slipper. There would never be a true happily-ever-after.

Or, there could be a happily-ever-after, in which Prince Charming finds the one he loves. If Jungsoo realized how much he needed Heechul, and if Heechul realized what it felt like to be in love for the first time. Cinderella and Prince Charming would have their happily-ever-after, the chapters of their individual stories entwining beautifully to form a fairytale.

But, Hyukjae reflects to himself as he flips to the last page of the Little Mermaid, not all fairytales have happy endings. If Cinderella were to find Prince Charming, where would that leave Siwon? The one who shared a separate story with Heechul, but was never fated to be written into his fairytale.

His eyes, soft and holding a tender sadness to them, read the last line of the Little Mermaid.

Sometimes, in fairytales, someone has to lose their prince and turn into sea foam, disappearing from their sight.


	8. park jungsoo

He had dreamed last night. It had been a sweet dream, a dream where everything was perfect. He had been there with Heechul, and everything had been okay in their world. He doesn’t remember the full details of the dream, as was the case with most dreams.

But he remembers telling Heechul ‘I love you’, and he remembers hearing Heechul whisper it back to him.

What a nice fantasy.

Halfway through his schedules, Heechul calls and demands for a kiss. He’s taken aback, of course, but he laughs and says no.

It makes his heart lighter, though.

And then at around four in the afternoon, all his sweet dreams and living fantasies are rudely destroyed.

He’s finished with his schedules, and he stops outside Heechul’s house for a quick visit. He’s about to ring the doorbell when he hears a shuffling sound and the door swings open.

He comes face-to-face with Siwon.

The man who Hyukjae said used to be in a relationship with Heechul.

His feet are rooted to the ground in his shock, and he can do nothing but gape at the younger member.

In that moment, the fantasies that he’s been writing in his head are erased and the love songs he has been singing in his heart turn silent.

There’s the sound of footsteps as Heechul runs to the door. He hears his name fall from Heechul’s lips, he hears Heechul asking why he’s here.

Siwon nods to him and then exits.

He doesn’t move.

“Why are you here?” Heechul repeats, his voice cracking a little. “Jungsoo.”

“You mean, why am I here when you already have Siwon?” he queries, hating how cold and detached his voice sounds, but it’s the only way he can speak without breaking down into tears in front of Heechul.

“Don’t misunderstand.” There’s a stammer in his tone.

“Hyukjae told me everything,” he says, almost breathlessly, seeing a rush of emotions run across Heechul’s face in that instance. Confusion, shock, fear, awkwardness. “I know, Heechul-ah. That you love Siwon.” He smiles. “Now I know why you told me to stop.”

It’s killing him inside every time he smiles at Heechul now. He understands now why Heechul told him to stop. He understands why Heechul treats his kiss as a simple joke.

“Jungsoo, please.” Heechul shakes his head. “It’s over with Siwon.”

“It didn’t seem that way,” he counters, raising an eyebrow at the place where Siwon had been standing at just minutes ago. “The red mark on your neck says otherwise, too.”

It gets his blood boiling, just thinking about someone else’s lips on Heechul’s skin, but he supposes what breaks his heart the most is that he has no  _ right  _ to feel angry. Heechul was never his.

“I pushed him away,” Heechul whispers. “I didn’t close my eyes when he kissed me, and when he kissed me I pushed him away. That was the last time.”

He hesitates.  _ Pushed him away?  _ “Why?”

“I thought of you.”

It causes him to scoff. “This isn’t really the way to gain forgiveness from someone, Heechul.”

“What I’m saying is the truth, though,” he murmurs. “You won’t believe me?”

He feels like he’s tearing out a piece of his heart. “Why should I believe you?” he shoots back, even though his voice is weak. “It’s been more than ten years, Heechul. If nothing happened between us back then, why should anything happen now?”

“Do you love me?” Heechul asks so suddenly that for a moment words fail him.

_ Yes. _

_ Unfortunately, yes. _

What a difference reality is from his dreams. In his dreams, he said it first, and Heechul said it immediately after.

He meets Heechul’s gaze steadily. “Are you in love with me?”

Both of them let the silence hang thick and heavy between them.

“What if I say yes?” Heechul asks.

He forces himself to stop the tremors down his spine at the words. “You won’t.”

Heechul doesn’t respond.

It hurts.

“Don’t play me like this, Heechul,” he says, and his tone is a half-way between defeated and tired and heartbroken. “You can’t have two people at once.”

“If I choose one, and I choose you, then can I have you?” he responds swiftly.

“Please, stop it.” His voice is a lot quieter now, weary.

_ Yes. _

His selfish heart cries. His selfish heart cries for Heechul, pines for the man more than anything else in this harsh reality. His selfish heart wants to have Heechul all for himself, his selfish heart wants him to be Cinderella’s prince.

His selfless mind cries. His selfless mind cries for Siwon, the man who was in love with Heechul, the man who had to watch in silence if Heechul didn’t choose him. His selfless mind doesn’t want to see Siwon suffer, doesn’t want to see Siwon cry if Heechul doesn’t choose him.

“You have Siwon,” he says, meeting Heechul’s gaze, and he’s surprised to read the brokenness and sorrow that his eyes contain. “Don’t break his heart.” His fingers are curling into fists, feeling his selfish heart beginning to crack here and there.

Heechul doesn’t reply, or can’t reply, he doesn’t know. But he holds his gaze for a little while longer, sorting through the mess of emotions in his eyes that have become easy for him read.

When he turns away and heads into the elevator, his selfish heart cries, cursing him for turning his back, cursing him for ruining yet another chance.

But when it came to using mind and instincts, Heechul had always been the one to listen to his heart, and he had always been the one to use his brain.

He prefers it that way.

He keeps his chin up as he keys in his passcode and enters his house; he walks over to his closet, pulling out a fresh change of clothes and entering the shower. It hits him five minutes in, and his false pretense of strength crumbles just like that; it hits him hard, and he can’t prevent the tears that fall from the corners of his eyes, intermixing with the water from the shower that runs down his face.

It’s hard to understand what’s making him cry the most. Perhaps because the realization hits him that he’s so desperately in love with Kim Heechul.

He’s so in love that it hurts, because he has no idea whether Heechul could ever love him back or not.

He’s so in love that it hurts, because when he saw another man standing in the doorway of Heechul’s apartment he had felt his entire world crumble down around him.

He’s so in love that it hurts, because if Heechul asked for his love he would still give it to him willingly.

He punches the shower wall, but even his punch is weak. He feels useless, his four walls that he spent so long building up being destroyed by just one person. He can’t do anything but stand in the shower and cry hard, his shoulders trembling.

He’s so in love that he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

He’s breaking down alone, and for a moment he wants to call someone to be here with him; it only makes him smile bitterly when he realizes the only friend he has on speed dial.

He steps out of the shower, and his body is still trembling, tearstains still adorning his paler-than-normal cheeks. He throws on his clothes carelessly, stepping out of the shower and checking his phone in an attempt to distract himself.

His plan is foiled when he sees the first notification; a text sent from Kim Heechul.

_ Come over _ .

He doesn’t reply.

_ Please? _

He stares at his phone, but he doesn’t respond to that either.

His phone screen lights up again, another message from Heechul.

_ I need you right now. _

He closes his eyes, fighting the tears that threaten to spill again. He hates crying. It makes him feel so weak, so useless.

His doorbell rings.

He figures it’s Heechul.

He ignores it.

It rings again, and he sighs, heading over to check the intercom. His head is down, not showing his face, but he can recognize easily enough that it’s Heechul.

Again.

He ignores it.

Again.

He ignores it.

It rings again, and this time Heechul looks into the camera. He’s surprised at the puffiness of Heechul’s eyes, the way his hair is a complete mess, the way the emotions in his normally bright eyes hold tremendous sadness, like a raging typhoon in the midst of a sunflower field.

He can’t ignore it.

Not just because his selfish heart is crying, but because his mind can’t stand to see Heechul in this state either; so  _ broken _ .

He hesitates with his hand resting on the door handle, swallowing thickly. His fingers unlock the door deftly and open it a crack, coming face to face with a swollen-eyed Heechul. He’s aware that his eyes are probably just as swollen and red.

“What?” he says, his voice a mix between a crack and a whisper.

One tear.

One small, crystal-like tear that slides down from Heechul’s left eye so quickly he almost missed it. Heechul stares up at him, and he’s momentarily speechless from how vulnerable, how broken, how alone he looks.

“You said you would always be there for me,” he whispers out.

His eyes widen, meeting Heechul’s own, filled with raw and exposed sorrow and fear and loneliness.

Hearing that one sentence, his heart breaks into a million tiny little pieces.

His arms have gone limp; almost stumbling, he takes a few steps back, his eyes fixed on Heechul. The man makes his way in, shutting the door with a quiet  _ click _ behind him.

He’s never noticed how delicate Heechul’s frame seemed, he’s never noticed how fragile the man appeared to be until he observes him closely and sees all his tearstains and notices how vulnerable he is at this moment.

For a moment, he’s floored.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, even though he doesn’t mean to.

Heechul looks up at him, and there’s a flash of surprise within the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he responds.

“Why are you here?” he asks, unable to prevent the tremor in his voice.

“To apologize.”

His selfless mind is glad, because that means that he hasn’t given up on Siwon, that he’s apologizing because he still wants Siwon.

His selfish heart cries, it cries hard and sends waves of sorrow spiraling through his veins because just an apology isn’t enough, it’ll never be enough unless it’s more than an apology.

Heechul exhales, as if searching for where to begin.

“First off,” he starts, a little awkwardly. His voice cracks, probably as a result of his tears earlier, and he laughs in embarrassment. “I’m sorry about Siwon.”

He bites his lip in thought. “It’s true, what Hyukjae said,” he confesses finally, “We did have a thing going on before my enlistment. But…” He pauses. “Today, he came to my house. I didn’t ask him to come.”

“You still…” He can’t bring himself to finish his sentence.

“I couldn’t,” Heechul responds weakly. “He wanted it. But I couldn’t do it.” His hand trails up to his neck, where a red mark remains; his eyes widen as Heechul digs his nails into the mark, as if trying to dig the mark out, get rid of its traces. “I couldn’t. He kissed me and it felt so  _ wrong _ .”

“You’ve done it before, with him,” he murmurs. “So why-”

“H – He…” Heechul’s voice is trembling, and this is the most vulnerable he has ever seen the infamous diva. “I was never in love with him.”

His mind cries, but his selfish heart celebrates.

“I was never in love with him,” Heechul continues, a little stronger this time, “He was a way to take my mind off things. I knew it was wrong, which was why I was relieved in a way when he ended things before my enlistment. But then he came back.”

“Then why did you let him?” he asks in a half-whisper.

Heechul hesitates, almost as if scared to speak. “Because of you,” he blurts.

He blinks.

“What?”

“To take my mind off you,” Heechul says, raising his eyes to capture Jungsoo’s trembling orbs. “But when you crossed my mind, I pushed him away, because a realization hit me then.”

He laughs breathlessly. “You know I’ve never been in love before. Siwon wasn’t an exception.”

He nods. He knows Heechul has never known love before. That’s why it hurts so much, because he realized he wasn’t an exception either.

“Jungsoo.” Heechul’s tone is quiet. “You asked me to choose one person.”

He takes a step towards him. “If I asked you if you loved me, would you say yes?”

He doesn’t respond.

_Yes._ _I would._

_ Of course I would, you idiot. _

_ There’s no way I could never say yes. _

“Because it’s you,” Heechul says, and his world freezes in time for a moment. “I would choose you.”


	9. kim heechul

He crumbles to the ground in a heap after both of them leave. He’s never felt lonelier before, the only sounds he hears being that of his own tears and the steady tick-tock of the clock that drives him more insane with every passing second.

He’s crying, the hardest he’s ever cried for  _ years _ , and the pain that sears through his heart is a white-hot flame that threatens to burn down every defense he’s ever built up in his lifetime. He’s crouched on the ground trembling, crying until no more sound leaves his lips and crying until all his tears have run dry.

It hits him, hard, that both of them are gone now.

He had always gone to Siwon; and he had always been the first to leave.

This time, Siwon had come to him, and Siwon had been the one to leave.

And the guilt overwhelms him, because he knows that when he told Siwon that he loved him too, he had been speaking a lie. And it kills him more, because with one glance at the crystal-like tears spilling down Siwon’s cheeks when he pushed him away, he knows that Siwon knew, too.

Siwon knew that he was never in love with him.

“Damn bastard,” he chokes out weakly, and this time he’s referring to the other one who left. Park Jungsoo.

Not that he blames him for leaving. The man who had given up so much for him, made so many promises; the man he had always leaned against and burdened, the man who always smiled at him and never asked for anything in return.

He’s never felt this way before; he’s never felt this pain before. He stays there unmoving, with tearstains on his cheeks and his eyes bloodshot from crying, and for a brief moment he wonders if he can just stay like this forever and die.

That moment when he pushed Siwon away, he realized who he was.

A disgusting creature.

That’s all he is.

A disgusting, self-centered creature. He knew from a while back that Siwon liked him more than just a temporary partner. He knew from a while back that Siwon was just somebody he used freely to take his mind off things.

His fingers dig into his palm. He knows now. He knows of the way Siwon must have hurt every time insincere words slipped from his mouth. He knows of the way Siwon’s heart must have been split into two when he pushed him away.

What disgusts him the most is that fact that he still wants to be this selfish, disgusting creature.

What disgusts him is that he broke someone’s heart, and yet his own heart pines for somebody else.

What disgusts him is the fact that the entire time with Siwon, the only one who he thought about was Jungsoo.

He’s too weak to bother crying now, only staring at the floor blankly.

What disgusts him the most is the fact that he’d rather break someone else’s heart over his own.

He wonders why he can never be as altruistic as those tragic characters in romance novels who would sacrifice their own happiness for the happiness of someone they loved.

_ Because you’re not altruistic or anywhere near perfect. _

_ You’re just a tragic, selfish bastard. _

He doesn’t feel much as his mind whispers darkly to him.

He already knows. He knows he’s a selfish bastard trapped somewhere between a tragedy and a fantasy. He knows he’s a fool who fell for the wrong person at the wrong time. He knows he’ll never be the selfless idiot who would give up everything just so somebody else could be happy.

He hates himself sometimes.

Especially times like these.

Pressing his cheek to the cold of his floor, he realizes that he could never have lived with the other option. He could never live with Siwon being happy while he suffers quietly.

Or perhaps he could never live while seeing Jungsoo happy with someone who  _ isn’t him _ .

The realization hit him full-force when he felt Siwon’s lips on his and he stared at him and the only thing that crossed his mind was that Siwon wasn’t the one he wanted, that Siwon shouldn’t be the one standing here kissing him.

The realization hit him full-force that he was in love with somebody. Somebody else.

And then Siwon had opened the door to see Jungsoo standing there, and then he had gone to speak with Jungsoo, and then he had screwed up.

He realizes now that he should have clung on to Jungsoo, like a man desperate for air. But his proud heart had refused, refused to beg like some pathetic low-life. His proud heart had stopped him, stopped him from running to Jungsoo and begging him to stay.

_ You mean, why am I here when you have Siwon? _

His proud heart had been angry then; he had just pushed Siwon away, he had rejected the man, and yet Jungsoo was accusing him of being a selfish bastard who couldn’t make up his mind.

It feels like a truck had plowed into him as he lies alone, his chest rising with unsteady breaths and his shoulders trembling. After what feels like hours, he succumbs to his exhaustion and allows his body to go limp, his swollen, tear-stained eyes staring blankly at nothing in particular.

_ Of course he was right. _

That’s all he is, a selfish bastard who can’t make up his mind.

His proud heart protests. It tells him that he’ll look like a desperate fool if he runs to one of them and begs them now.

His mind speaks otherwise. It tells him to run, find the only person he’s ever loved in his entire lifetime, tells him that it’s better to break one heart and save his own rather than break three and watch as two people walked away from him.

For a while, he believed that he had cried himself dry of tears, but he feels a familiar wetness on his cheeks as more tears begin to slide down slowly. For the first time in his life, he listens to his mind instead of his proud heart, because he comes to the realization that he’d rather die than dream of Jungsoo leaving him, too.

His body is fragile as he picks himself up, his legs shaky. He cares little about his own appearance, stumbling out of his door and making his way into the lift, where he presses the floor to Jungsoo’s apartment.

He doesn’t really realize what he’s doing until he’s standing directly outside the apartment. Then, he’s laughing quietly to himself, because he seems like some girl in a romance novel who has fallen too deeply in love.

His proud heart cries, and he throws all its little warnings to the wind, jabbing his finger against the doorbell for the first time. He keeps his head down, so Jungsoo doesn’t have to see how much of a damn mess he is.

Jungsoo doesn’t open the door.

He rings again, and he hears a shuffling sound from inside the house, but no one opens the door. And he’s breaking down inside, because he can see how his story ends; the perfect friend, who promised to stay by his side forever, will leave him too. And then he’ll be all alone in his misery, trapped within the chapters of his messed-up fantasy-turned-tragedy.

He presses it for a third, a fourth time. Jungsoo ignores him. He wonders if Jungsoo can see the way his shoulders are shaking so hard because all he can do now is cry helplessly. It would be better if he cried pretty, like all those actors and actresses in dramas, but he doesn’t cry that pretty. His face is a mess, his eyes red and tearstains down his cheeks.

His finger is shaking as they rest on the doorbell; the fifth time. If Jungsoo ignores him again, then – his proud heart is crumbling bit by bit at the thought – it was really goodbye. His chances were gone, and he had screwed up too many times to ask for forgiveness.

He’s aware of the haunting desperation in his eyes as he looks up into the camera and presses it for the final time, almost prepared to turn away.

There’s a moment of breathlessness, a moment where it seemed like time froze; his facial expression remains unchanging, and all the sounds have faded off into the background except for the unsteady thud of his own heartbeat.

He wonders if this is how it’s going to be, lying in bed every night listening to his own heartbeat and laughing as he wonders how he managed to screw up so badly.

The door opens.

Just a tiny crack, but it opens.

He half-walks, half-falls towards the crack and he looks through, his gaze meeting Jungsoo’s. They’re a reflection of each other, a beautiful mess with their puffy, red, tear-stained eyes, tangled hair, the way they both didn’t know whether to close the gap or run away and never look back.

“What?” Jungsoo asks in a voice so small, so broken, his proud heart falls into pieces.

“You promised you would always be there for me.” The words leave his lips unintentionally, barely a whisper, and he feels his senses crumbling along with his heart.

When Jungsoo steps back, he enters the apartment and shuts the door softly behind them.

The first words that leave Jungsoo’s mouth are “I’m sorry”, and a wave of déjà vu runs over him as he remembers the way this all started.

_ You were always so perfect _ .

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

_ You’re always so perfect. _

“Why are you here?” Jungsoo asks him, and he’s aware that both of them are trembling. Jungsoo’s eyes are so desperately intense, he doesn’t know whether he should stare deep into their depths or tear his gaze away.

“To apologize.”

_ Because I’m a selfish, proud bastard and I hate it and yet I can’t do anything about it. _

He breathes out, a million thoughts racing through his brain at the same time as he desperately fishes for the right thing to say. In the end, words just fall lamely out of his mouth. “First off, I’m sorry about Siwon.”

He bites his lip. He never knew that falling in love was such a difficult thing. “It’s true, what Hyukjae said,” he tells Jungsoo, and he feels like a hammer is plunging into his chest with every word. “We did have a thing going on before my enlistment. But… Today, he came to my house. I didn’t ask him to come.”

_ He’s never come before. You’ve always been the one to come to me. _

Jungsoo watches him with an eerie calm about him. “You still…”

He flinches a little, because he knows what Jungsoo is trying to say, and he hates every moment of it, he hates the thought of Siwon’s hands on his skin and their lips against one another now. He hates the thought of everything he’s done, every person’s heart he’s screwed up; including his own messed-up heart.

“I couldn’t.” One glance at Jungsoo’s face, and he’s aware that the leader doesn’t fully believe him. “He wanted it, but I couldn’t do it.” He’s inwardly shuddering at the thought now – is this what true love makes one feel, he wonders – and he reaches up to dig his nails into the place where Siwon kissed his neck hard, not wincing as pain shoots through his body. “I couldn’t. He kissed me and it felt so  _ wrong. _ ”

_ It’s all your damn fault, Jungsoo. _

“You’ve done it before, with him,” Jungsoo counters, “So why-”

“H – he…” He hates the way his voice shakes weakly. “I was never in love with him.” His proud heart cries a little as he lets Jungsoo break down all his defenses, confessing to all his mistakes and screws up.

“I was never in love with him,” he repeats, and he’s glad when the stutter isn’t present anymore. “He was a way to take my mind off things.” It sickens him to the core now that he thinks back on it. “I knew it was wrong, which was why I was relieved in a way when he ended things before my enlistment.”  _ What a liar. Why did you cry when he left, then?  _ “But then he came back.”

“Then why did you let him?”

He doesn’t know what hurts him more, the soft accusation in Jungsoo’s every word or the fact that there’s nothing he could do because Jungsoo is always fucking  _ right _ about everything. For a moment, he wants to explode, wants to yell, ‘Fine, you’re right, I’m just a screwed-up asshole!’

“Because of you,” is the only thing he can think to blurt out at that moment.

Jungsoo looks at him.

“What?”

“To take my mind off you,” he admits, holding Jungsoo’s gaze in his own. “But when you crossed my mind, I pushed him away, because a realization hit me then.” He laughs, and it comes as a part-chuckle, part-breath. “You know I’ve never been in love before. Siwon wasn’t an exception.”

_ Until you _ .

Jungsoo nods.

“Jungsoo.” His voice has dropped to something akin to a whisper, and he can hear his own heartbeat reverberating around the walls of his ribcage. “You asked me to choose one person.”

He doesn’t know where he sums up the strength to do so, but his legs move one step closer to Jungsoo.

Jungsoo doesn’t move back.

“If I asked you if you loved me, would you say yes?”

There’s a part of him that aches for Jungsoo to confirm it, for the soft affirmation to slip from his lips; it translates into disappointment and then numbness when Jungsoo doesn’t react.

_ Why would he say yes, after I screwed up so much? _

“Because it’s you,” he chokes out, “I would choose you.”

All is silent as both of them watch each other, the only sound occupying the air being the sound of their breathing.

A tear, shaped like the smallest pebble, rolls down Jungsoo’s cheek.

“When you asked me if I was in love with you,” he continues, walking closer, “I’d say yes.”

The tears roll down again, faster this time.

“You’ve always been the perfect friend,” he whispers, walking close enough so that their bodies are almost touching. “You’ve always been there for me.”

He raises a quivering hand to wipe the tears away from Jungsoo’s cold cheeks. Jungsoo doesn’t stop him. “So,” he says, with a faint smile ghosting over his lips, “I came to you this time.”

He can sense both of them breaking simultaneously; the walls that they built to protect themselves from one another collapsing to the ground. Jungsoo is still silent, only looking at him with those tenderly sorrowful eyes.

He swallows. “You asked me to make my choice.” He strokes Jungsoo’s cheek again, and Jungsoo doesn’t push him away. “The people I used to go out with. They’re nice, they’re kind, they treat me well and they don’t ever refuse me like you do. If I ask for a kiss, they’ll do it without hesitation. If I tell them to be mine, they will.” His hand drops from Jungsoo’s cheek to his hand, where his fingers tangle around Jungsoo’s in some form of insistence. “But they don’t make me smile like you can, they don’t promise to stay by me forever like you, they don’t dare to nag at me like you do, they don’t act like an idiot with me like you do-” He pauses for breath, because the tears are welling up and choking him a little, “- When they kiss me, it’s nothing like the way you make me feel, when they hold my hand I don’t feel anything close to what happens when I’m with you, and they’ve never made me cry over them like you are now.”

Their eyes, both immersed in a whirlwind of emotions, meet and that’s when all their walls vanish into thin air; a sound somewhere between a choked sob and a gasp escapes Jungsoo’s lips, and in that instant they close the gap between themselves without thinking twice; he allows himself to go limp in Jungsoo’s strong arms, his tears seeping through the fabric of Jungsoo’s clothes.

“If you asked me if I loved you,” Jungsoo whispers to him, “Of course I’d say yes.”

He leans against Jungsoo’s chest, smiling. The sound of his heartbeat is comforting.

“If you asked me to come to you,” Jungsoo murmurs, “Of course I’d come.”

“I know,” he replies, and in this moment he realizes this is what love means, and it’s beautiful. He looks up, and Jungsoo’s smiling down at him. “There’s one question you haven’t answered.”

He pulls back, but his grip on Jungsoo’s hand never leaves. His gaze meets Jungsoo’s searchingly. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

A gentle chuckle reverberates from Jungsoo’s throat. He’s answered when the gap between them closes once again and he can taste Jungsoo intermixed with the salt from both of their tears. He smiles into the kiss, kissing Jungsoo deeply like he’s wanted to for a long time now.

When they finally break away from one another for breath, he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. “I’m fully sober right now,” he says, “So next time, believe me more when I tell you I’m in love with you.”

They both laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s heard in a long while.

“I love you,” Jungsoo whispers, and he’s heard it plenty of times, but it’s the first time those three words evoked so much emotion within him.

“I love you too.”

And he pulls Jungsoo closer to him, because it’s the first time he truly means it.

Love is mysteriously and deceptively confusing in all sorts of ways, with the ability to turn a fantasy into a tragedy in the blink of an eye.

There’s never a thing known as a perfect ending, not in reality.

But, Kim Heechul realizes as Park Jungsoo holds him tight and whispers little promises to him, this is their imperfect little fairytale.


	10. epilogue

It’s awkward the first time they see each other again, when the group is gathered together to drink and their eyes meet.

They’re sitting across the table from one another, Siwon and Heechul. Siwon’s next to Hyukjae, who eats and drinks silently even though he understands everything. Heechul’s next to Jungsoo, who smiles and pretends not to notice the awkward situation.

And then Siwon smiles and calls Heechul ‘hyung’ and talks about the most random of topics and Heechul responds, and the awkwardness is present in the air and they can tell. Donghae looks up from his food and asks Hyukjae if anything happened and Hyukjae has to tell him that nothing’s wrong.

Jungsoo watches as surprise flits across Heechul’s face when Siwon speaks. He watches as Heechul’s expression morphs into one of friendly neutrality as he replies with his normal joking tone, although he can hear the slight awkwardness that tints it.

Jungsoo knows that there must be a million thoughts running through Heechul’s mind as he keeps up the joking smirk and responds to Siwon as naturally as he can. He can feel Heechul’s hand brush against his own uncertainly, and he holds it in secret, placing a smile on his own face to diffuse the tension.

Jungsoo looks across the table at Hyukjae, who stares back at him; then Donghae pipes up, noticing the slight awkwardness between Heechul and Siwon, and Hyukjae’s gaze averts direction as he assures Donghae that nothing happened.

Jungsoo watches as Siwon struggles to keep his bright smile up, and his heart and mind cries a little for the poor man, watching as the man he loved – loves? – sits across the table with someone who isn’t him; which subsequently causes a sense of guilt to hit him.

In the part of their stories where their chapters intertwined, two ended in a fairytale and the other ended in a hopeless tragedy.

Heechul is surprised when Siwon speaks to him, and he responds to the best of his ability; he’s aware that he can’t get rid of the slight awkwardness in his tone, and meeting Siwon’s eyes, he’s aware that the man isn’t completely comfortable either.

He brushes hands with Jungsoo and Jungsoo holds him to comfort him; it comforts him, yet sends guilt washing over him as he realizes why Siwon is so hurt in the first place. Donghae asks what’s wrong and Hyukjae takes his mind off it, and he shoots a small glance towards Hyukjae because he’s grateful.

He still doesn’t know if he’s made the right choice, but it’s too late to go back now, and – glancing sideways at Jungsoo – he realizes he’s being selfish, but he wouldn’t want to go back. He wants to continue being childish and selfish and live within the realms of his and Jungsoo’s fantasy for a long time more.

Siwon can still feel the pangs in his heart, and he surprises himself by calling Heechul’s name. He forces himself to make small conversation with his hyung, ignoring his foolish heart driving him insane.

He wants to escape his twisted fantasy, the world that has only him wandering alone now, so he forces back the stinging tears in his eyes and continues to make conversation with a smile on his face. Perhaps it would have been easier if Heechul hadn’t been sitting with Jungsoo right next to him, but he realizes that there’s nothing he could do about it.

He knows it’s never been his choice; that even if he forgave Heechul, begged him to stay beside him, Heechul would have chosen Jungsoo anyway.

So he forces a smile onto his face, and across from him he can see Heechul doing the same as him. Donghae asks if something’s happened between them and he panics slightly, but Hyukjae says no and Donghae keeps quiet; he taps Hyukjae’s hand lightly in a form of gratitude, and Hyukjae only offers him a small, sad smile.

Hyukjae watches them from the perspective of an outsider, his eyes roaming over the three of them clearly – Jungsoo, Heechul, Siwon. Prince Charming and Cinderella, and the one who was never written into their fairytale.

They’re all smiling and laughing, and no one else at the table seems to doubt anything until Donghae speaks up; he sees the flash of anxiety in Siwon’s eyes and he’s quick to tell Donghae ‘nothing’s wrong’, and he sees the relief in their gazes when Donghae simply nods and continues eating.

No one can see that there’s anything wrong, except for him who’s heard stories of all their messed up little chapters, and except for them who all have their scars over their foolish, selfish, proud hearts that they remember all-too-clearly.

His gaze trails to his two eldest hyungs. They’re living within their own fairytale now, but what makes him sad is that the chapters leading up to the happy ending are everything but perfect; and then there’s Siwon, his close friend, the friend who has been hurt so much. He gazes at him with sentimental melancholy in his eyes; the friend who has watched Prince Charming and Cinderella have their happily-ever-after, the one who had to just  _ disappear _ as if he meant nothing.

“Hyukjae,” Donghae whines again, for the second time now, “Is something wrong?”

He bites his lip, observing all their gazes that contain so much. “Everything is okay,” he whispers. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He won’t tell Donghae of the pain and apology in their leader’s gaze, the way he stares at Siwon with his eyes as if trying to say sorry a million times over.

He won’t tell Donghae of the guilt and confusion in his favourite hyung’s eyes, the way his eyes dart from Siwon’s to the table in a mixture of remorse and ashamedness.

He won’t tell Donghae of the immense sorrow and lostness in their friend’s every move, the way he trembles a little when Heechul speaks or the way he looks at Jungsoo and doesn’t know what to feel anymore.

The three of them look at each other. Jungsoo joins the conversation with a forced laugh, ignoring the pangs of guilt in his chest. Heechul makes his smile even wider, choking down the apologies that bubble up in his throat. Siwon laughs hard, pretending that the tears that come to his eyes are because of the laughter and not sorrow.

Then their eyes soften, and they look at one another with this gaze akin to understanding, all holding some form of apology within.

None of them know why life has twists and turns in the cruel reality of it all, but they all come to the understanding that perfect fairytales can never exist in the real world.

They’re aware, all of them are, that one heart has to be broken for a twisted fantasy to transform into a fairytale.

And all their hearts – their foolish, selfish and proud hearts – they all cry for the other possibilities, they cry for all the ‘what ifs’, they cry for the possibility of a perfect fairytale.

But they understand that they’ll never be perfect.

The three of them will live in the chapters of their little realms, one with a heart still broken and two with scars inflicted deep into them.

Time has passed since the scars cut deep, and over time they grew up a little, with tiny realizations hitting them at the weirdest times.

They realize what love means somewhere along the way.

It’s love that makes Jungsoo realize that as much as he feels sorry towards Siwon, he can’t imagine the thought of giving up Heechul.

It’s love that makes Heechul realize that even if Siwon begged him to stay, his heart would still belong to Jungsoo.

It’s love that makes Siwon realize that even if he cried himself to sleep every night, in a small, odd way of his, he’s glad that the main character in his twisted fantasy was finally able to write a fairytale of his own.

It’s love, of a different form, that makes tears roll down Hyukjae’s cheeks as he watches two people he loves as brothers finally find happiness, and another man he regards as a family member lose his prince.

But, he supposes, that’s just the way reality works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap! <3


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